


Rathlands [English Ver]

by Nescafeine



Category: Monster Hunter (Video Games)
Genre: Empires - Freeform, Kingdoms, Letter, Medieval, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:14:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 34,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25151455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nescafeine/pseuds/Nescafeine
Summary: Centuries ago, monsters finally succeed into wiping out humans and their civilization. Since, they've founded their own civilization, on the newly-named continent of Solhatar, thanks to ancient human's knowledge found by erudites. Unfortunately, like humans before them, they got into wars, fighting over territory.  Ten years before the beginning of this story, a war divided the Rathlands' Kingdom and the Rakurai Empire. Tired and weary from this endless war, Rathiens then decided to offer as a gift of peace one of the king Khryselios' daughters,  in marriage with Rakuraï II, emperor of the said Rakurai Empire ...But the aftermath of a war surely is uncertain ...Please give feedback ! It's my first time trying to translate my work, so don't hesitate to point out errors and stuff ^^
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1 (Zenith POV)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...

Gliding above the vast plain, the large-winged Rathalos brewed the air of early dusk. Staring thoughtfully at the ground passing under his talons, he lost a bit of altitude, then quickly recovered, having spotted something.

"Father will be grateful to me if I bring my share to the buffet," he thought,  
before diving at the target he saw, brushing past the plain’s grass.

Despite the discretion he had shown, his prey, an Aptonoth of good size, bellowed, discovering the flying wyvern swooping down on him, and fled.  
Growling from discontentment, the purple-scaled dragon sped up to catch up with the galloping herbivore. The Rathalos emitted a slight hiss, and a flaming sphere sprang from its mouth to crash on its target, killing it instantly. Landing near the corpse, he glanced furtively at the sky. Nobody there. To be honest, he was not afraid of much. Grabbing his prey without much trouble, he rose in the air and head back to the castle.

"At this pace, I should be on time for the start of the banquet ..."

He lets out a short sigh.  
"I hope things will get better then. I really don't like this kind of arrangements ... " the bulky dragon muttered, resuming its cruising speed and altitude.  
Soaring with its large ruby wings veined of gold, the Dreadking saw his destination on the horizon.   
The Rathlands’ Castle.

**********************************************************

After passing the three main towers, he branched off to the east wing of the castle, where the kitchens were located. Finding the drop-off point for food, he hastened to deliver his burden which, despite his stature, was beginning to weigh heavily after two hours of travel.

Knart, the Agnaktor who were managing the kitchens (and also the forge), came to receive the goods and thanked him for his contribution, before going to prepare the meat.  
Satisfied, the Rathalos took off and this time, headed for the wing main, where he was to go. He landed on the area meant for this purpose, then walked to the heavy steel door that blocked access to the throne’s room. The two Seltas guards in charge opened it and greeted him respectfully.

\- Good evening, Prince Zenith.  
\- Good evening, the garnet dragon replied, dusting its wings while  
waiting for the door to open fully.

He got back into his thoughts, staring at the ground, and letting himself be lulled by the noise of its talons on the clear and shiny marble.

"How am I going to report?" Let's see. I should start telling that the Rakurian borders are calm… Then point out the tensions between the Buruto dictatorship and the Skypierciers empire at the level of Prosperity Pass being still of actuality ... Mhh ... "thought the flying wyvern.  
"What else is there to say ... The aftermath of a war seems to be pretty much calm ..." he sighed.

He regained consciousness of the outside world when he reached the second door, adorned with gold, silver, emeralds and rubies, symbols of the royal family.  
This door was one of the most beautiful works that was seen in all Rathlands. It had been forged, sculpted and decorated by an illustrious blacksmith who was once nicknamed "the Golden Claw", by his incredible talent, but also because of the golden reflections of the forge which illuminated his whole person while he was working. Since then, all the blacksmiths of the country, even of the world maybe, aspired to become also renowned as him.  
The two other green wasps that guarded it bowed before the prince before opening the throne room, greeting him.  
He threw a brief greeting at the Seltas before entering the immense room. It had a large vaulted ceiling rising up to twenty meters, and was supported by splendid marble pillars of hexagon base. The ground, also made of sand-colored stone, shone a beautiful satin sheen; and a magnificent red velvet carpet was laying in the middle, leading to the sumptuous purple throne with golden armrests of the king. Anyone who ventured here for the first time once was struck by the grandeur of the room.  
He waited a few minutes when the royal bugle sounded, announcing the king’s arrival, who entered through the wide tunnel from the left of the room.  
The imposing silver Rathalos advanced towards his seat with majestic steps, sat down, then greeted Zenith with his head.

\- Good evening, my son. I imagine you're here to report ? his father asked, his voice sounding in a low echo.  
\- Yes father. No sign of Rakurai Empire’s activity near our borders… Everything is calm, except for the Prosperity’ Pass area, where the tensions between Skypiercers and Burutians are still present, as it was for now two weeks, the Dreadking declared. I’ve also got a prey that I gave to Knart for the banquet. An Aptonoth.  
\- Thank you for your contribution. I see ... Nothing new. Well, that means Rakurai seems to keep his promise, isn’t it ?  
The prince gnashed his teeth.  
\- I deeply dislike the idea of having to offer him Tourmaline.  
\- We do not have a choice, the monarch replied. This was the only way to end this war.  
\- It is not fair. A monster cannot be sold or sold like a common good.  
\- It's about getting married, it's different. I already explained to you why it was the best possible choice. Between sacrificing the happiness of a monster and the lives of thousands of subjects… (he sighed) A king cannot afford to be selfish, Zenith.  
\- It’s much worse than soldiers’ deaths, it’s humiliation ! Offering your daughter, your own daughter as a war treasure ... he growled, frustrated.  
\- Stop wandering on the subject. I had no choice, and you know it. You shouldn't spit your anger on me.

His son looked down in regret.

\- Sorry. It’s… It’s just so awful… I’d like to gut this fucking dog of Rakuraï for asking this ! The Garnet Rathalos spat.

\- You’re forgiven. I understand your resentment. However, remember that you must hide this resentment deep within you. One day maybe, your wish could come true. But today isn’t the day ... Now, get ready for the party, put on any garment that suits you, and be presentable for tonight, my son. The servants will certainly already busy with Tourmaline and Blister, but I asked them to bring you clothes.  
The purple scales dragon sighed.  
"Oh no, please, I thought I would never have to wear this kind of junk ornaments again ... "  
\- Go, and don't linger too long, the silver Rathalos said, before disappearing in the tunnel from which it appeared.

********************************************************

The sun had already disappeared behind the hills for an hour when the first guests manifested. Saxo and Trumpet, the poets and musicians Qurupecos, were responsible for entertaining them in the hall while waiting for the festivities to begin.  
After completing his report, Zenith headed for the West Wing of the castle, in order to return to his room. On the stairs leading to these, at first floor, he met one of his brothers, Blast, already adorned with a thousand party decorations.

\- You are ridiculous, Blast, the garnet Rathalos spoke in a mocking grin.  
\- Thank you, the white dragon sighed, rolling his eyes, I was still doubting this fact ...  
\- You didn't have to ... "decorate" yourself as much.  
\- Father asked us to, a question of respect, diplomacy … You know.  
\- I don't care about what the Rakurians might think, Zenith hissed.  
\- You don't even have to put on makeup ! That’s not so bad … his quartz-colored scaled brother said.

This amused the Dreadking.  
\- Leave this to Blister and Tourmaline…  
\- They must be having fun, Blast smiles.  
\- Sweet Teostra… the purple scaled dragon whispered, imagining her sisters hesitating between hundreds of clothes to wear.  
\- Well, I'm going right now, otherwise, there will be no more petits fours of  
Gargwa, the Crystal Rathalos concludes.  
\- What a tragedy it would be, his older brother laughs. Keep me some, I’ll be there within minutes.  
\- If you're not by there in ten minutes, I’ll devour them all! His brother exclaimed, already running away.  
"Sooo, It seems I have three minutes to prepare myself and save the petit fours of a certain death in Blast's stomach " Zenith thought while hurrying towards his room.  
When he returned, his gaze was immediately caught by the amount of improbable ornaments piled up on his office chair, where he wrote his reports. Confused, he searched the heap with the tips of his wings to find something sober and simple. He tried jewels set with rubies, then put them back down. He then tried to adjust a gold tail cover, without success. Annoyed by the ridicule of the situation, he decided to go with black and gold metal thigh boots, succeeding in tying it around its legs, with an fairly unconvinced face.  
"I really don't see how this nonsense is supposed to make me presentable ” the garnet Rathalos muttered out loud.  
\- Need help ? ironically a voice said ironically behind him.  
He turned around. It was Arsenic, one of his Rathian sisters.  
She wore only her usual silver tail cover, starting at the half of it and enveloping its highly toxic tail appendage. All Rathians in the castle had to wear one, either when they were walking by, or during certain events, in order to not hurt someone inadvertently. In fact, Raths were not afraid of their own poison, being naturally resistant from these toxins. However, when the king was organizing parties or banquets, for the sake of diplomacy, the females Raths were in the obligation to put a tail cover to avoid any collateral damage. The Rathalos, in comparison, hardly had this kind of inconvenience, due to the fact that their toxins were secreted by their talons, and so, were having more control over it. They could thus wander about without caudal protections, even if some wore them out of pure fantasy.  
The Rathalos smiled, then looked at his wrongly attached thigh boots.  
\- I would refuse by pride for sure, if I wasn’t aware of how low I currently am ... the Dreadking sarcastically said.  
\- I'm not as good as Tourmaline or Blister for that, but I still think I can do better, the Dreadqueen Rathian said, trying to readjust the waders with a little more ease than her brother, who watched her do her thing.  
Zenith liked Arsenic.  
Although she was not her sister of blood, -because she was adopted, being  
an orphan before she could even fly - her older brother preferred her to her  
sisters, frivolous and superficial.  
The lilac-colored Rathian was relatively well integrated within the royal family, and was quite popular with the people. However, some ignorants liked to remind her of the impurity of her blood, which was a big mistake, because Arsenic was also a terrible warrior. Rumor has it that she was abandoned due to her overproduction of natural toxins, which oozed from the thorns of its tail as well as the slightest scale on his body. Her poison was also more virulent than normal, and the Dreadqueen was able to air it out as asphyxiating air or to crystallize it in order to use it as a weapon. Many believed that she was cursed, and due to his subjects’ pressure, the king had to force her to wear a tail cover in permanence, except for training.  
The green and purple wyverne was also uninterested by ornaments and aesthetics, as her other sisters could be, joining Zenith's opinion on the subject.  
\- It's already better like that, the Rathian said, having finished tightening the straps, looking up at the purple scaled Rathalos.  
\- Thank you, he blurted, looking down.  
\- What else ? Arsenic asked.  
\- By Teostra ! I already regret these horrible things, his brother growled,  
swaying from one foot to the other. No thanks, I look already stupid like that ...  
She smiled, and Zenith guessed that she shared his opinion.  
\- Your silence is very eloquent, the garnet dragon said in a grin.  
There was a silence, during which they stared without saying a word.  
"I think I'm going to go," the poisonous Rathian said.  
This caused a flash of lucidity in the Rathalos’ mind.  
\- Teostra ! Blast will eat all the petits fours! the Dreadking realized, rushing out of his room and running towards the hall.  
\- I bet that this hollowed legs of Blast has already swallowed it all !  
Arsenic said amused, watching her brother running down the stairs at full speed.  
He accelerated even more.  
"I hope there are still some left," Zenith thought.

********************************************************

When he tumbled into the hall, around thirty guests were already present, nibbling on appetizers. Fruits, shellfishs, toasts, grilled meat, petit fours, everything was there. The first thing he noticed was his brother of alabaster hue, filling his stomach at the seafood buffet.  
\- Blast! What did you do with the petits fours of Gargwa? He growls, lowering  
suddenly his voice so that it does not attract attention.  
\- Eaten. But the shrimps are delicious, you should taste them, the quartz Rathalos suggested.  
\- I don't like shellfish ! And you were supposed to keep me some !  
\- I'm kidding, I kept two of them and gave them to Knart, he got them  
brought back to the kitchen, I think. Go see for yourself.  
\- Thank you, I thought you had swallowed everything, his purple scaled brother whispered.  
\- I could have, Blast said dreamily.  
\- I'm going to get them right away, Zenith said, turning to face  
towards the kitchens by the interior access.  
He politely greeted a few guests on the way, in order to make good impression, always according to the wishes of his father. The Rathlands’ people had long been known as very good hosts, and was counting of not deceiving this reputation. After a dozen of greets, the Dreadking finally reached his goal, and asked one of the Lavasioth cooks to call their chef, which he did.  
\- Ah, Prince Zenith! the Agnaktor exclaimed, taking out a plate of meat skewers from one of the ovens before coming to him. You’re looking  
for the petit fours, I presume?  
\- Yes please. And please, don’t use my title, you know very well that you  
are a friend here… the garnet dragon confirmed.  
\- It’s the least I can do, my prince ! I'll get them immediately, the red leviathan replied.  
The majestic winged Rathalos did not have time to blink that the chef had already returned. Knart always impressed him with his incredible zeal, making him the most loyal of servants. The Agnaktor cooked for His Majesty for a good decade now, who had hoisted it at the time to his current position by this extraordinary loyalty and modesty which he demonstrated. His rather prodigious social ascent had made him even more idolatrous of the royal family, and although it was sometimes criticized his excess of benevolence, he was much appreciated at the castle.  
\- Here they are, my prince, the magmatic reptile declared, presenting him  
a small vermeil tray on which were proudly placed two petit fours set aside by Blast.  
\- Thank you, Knart, the flying wyvern said, delicately grabbing them between its wing claws.  
\- There is nothing to thank me for, Prince Zenith.  
He bowed.  
\- Come on, stop these manners, please ! The Rathalos smiles.  
\- It would make you ashamed, sir. Well, if I have your agreement, I wish I could go back to my business.  
\- Of course you have it, the Dreadking laughed.

And then, the Agnaktor turned on his heels and sets off again to manage the cooking of the appetizers and main dishes.  
Zenith turned back to the place of the festivities, savoring his deserved aperitifs on the way.  
"Delicious as always" the prince thought with delight as he tasted them.  
When he returned to the room, the number of guests had tripled. Space wasn’t lacking yet, because the hall was the largest room in the castle, followed by the throne room, but the air had considerably warmed up without one of the three large chimneys being lit, which was quite a significant clue in this winter evening.  
Zenith then visited each of the buffets out of pure curiosity, tasting the  
new appetizers that the royal cooks had prepared, on Knart’s order, wishing to offer a diversity among them. He tasted so small toasts with Gargwa foie gras, relatively tasty, as well as "Sandwichs" small pieces of bread between which were placed vegetables, fruit, or even meat or fish, to get the taste of all these foods simultaneously on the tongue.  
"It really isn’t a bad idea, and I must admit that I am becoming fond of these ones" the prince thought while swallowing another sandwich.  
Once he had tested all the new things, the purple Rathalos came back  
to greet new guests, bowing, smiling and giving compliments for about twenty minutes.  
Being on the verge of hypocrisy didn't really please him, but it was, according to his father, a mark of politeness. Zenith did not see how lying made him an honest man, but much good may it do to them if they loved his false complacency and his pretended interest. Anyway, it had no choice, because this evening has for sole purpose to promote peace between the Rakurai Empire and the Rathlands Kingdom.  
"As long as everything goes smoothly and peace can be established, I guess I can get along ..." Zenith thought while repeating her mechanical cycle of greeting.  
\- Hey! Zenith! a voice hailed him.  
He looked for where it came from, before seeing his other brother Phoenix approaching, literally on fire.

Phoenix was the youngest among the royal siblings. Just like Arsenic, he  
was born with an unusual anomaly, but was of royal blood, unlike the Dreadqueen Rathian. Its peculiarity layed in its internal temperature able to rise to 160 ° C, instead of 100 ° C for a ordinary Rathalos. Its flames were therefore formidable, but in addition to that, he was able to ignite himself whole without burning himself, thanks to the extraordinary resistance of its breastplate to heat. This one had an equally peculiar shade, orange and bright yellow along the spine. Due to its flammable nature, it was therefore necessary to avoid him to get agitated too much and thus inadvertently burns objects. Despite that, he was the most intentioned and kindest brother in the world.  
\- Good evening brother, you already stuffed yourself with crustaceans like Blast, as I see ? the Dreadking asked with a mocking smile.  
\- Erm, I admit that it might be my sweet sin, Phoenix replied, swaying from one foot to the other.  
\- Well, I think Knart ordered them for a regiment by anticipation, if you know what I mean ...  
\- So much the better, my guilt will be lighter.  
\- Haven't you seen Tourmaline, by any chance? Zenith inquired.  
\- She must still be strutting in front of her mirror in Blister's company, I think, the cadet said.  
\- Probable… the garnet dragon meditated.  
\- Well, if you allow me, I'm going to go back emptying up these seafoods things, the Incendiary Rathalos announced.  
\- Come on, I'm not holding you back, his older brother smiled.  
The Dreadking stopped his reverence tour to start looking from her older sister when the feast was announced in the hall banquet through the Qurupecos’ speech.  
"I wish I could have talked to her, but I'm afraid I won't have time"  
the Prince of the Rathlands thought, gnashing his teeth.


	2. Chapter 2 (Tourmaline POV)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...

\- No ! This one is ugly ! Get it off immediately! the Conflagration Rathian roared again.  
\- Yes mistress ... The chamberlains sighted as they did so, exasperated by the perfectionism of the eldest princess.  
\- Is there anything else you can show me ?! The princess growled, irritated.  
"I'm afraid we're out of ideas," one of the Felynes meowed.  
\- WHAT ?! I can't introduce myself to guests like that! That's unthinkable!  
\- But ... We’ve already done your entire wardrobe, my lady! another servant moaned.  
\- It's not my problem ! Find me something beautiful to wear, sweet Teostra! Check out Blister's one ! the wyvern scolded.  
\- We’re on it, Lady Tourmaline ! the Felynes obeyed, frightened.  
The vermilion-pointed Rathian glared at her servants while they hurried to Blister’s room.  
"Grrr ... I hope they will find me an outfit! Gosh, it's my wedding ! » Tourmaline thought.  
She lowered her head, suddenly thoughtful.  
"My marriage ... I wanted it, I was looking for it so much, but I'm not  
really sure I want to bound with Rakurai…Ngh. As if I ever had the choice  
anyway … "  
She was anxious. Since she was 17, her majority, she dreamed of marrying one of these foreign princes, gallant and courteous, as they were described in tales for hatchlings. When she was told about her future wedding, she was first overjoyed, then skeptical when she had learned that her lover was none other than Rakurai II, from the Empire of same name. She knew the kingdom was at war with them for ten years, but that they had recently signed an armistice, much to the surprise of all, because no territorial agreement had been concluded yet. Later, she learned from Zenith, secretly, that her marriage was only a disguise for hide the delivery of the elder princess as a war tribute to the Thunderlord Emperor. She wanted to rebel at first, but then realized it was too late. Besides, she understood that it was the only way to end this war that has been exhausting the Rathlands for now a decade.  
Tourmaline had therefore accepted her role in the project of a new peace.  
That didn't stop the Rathian from feeling downhearted when meditating on  
her future life in Voltarr, the capital of the Rakurai Empire, far from her brothers and sisters she loved so much ...  
\- Mistress ! We may have what you need! the Felynes said, hopeful, bringing a chest full of ornaments.

The flying wyverne snapped out of her thoughts.

\- Ah? Show me that, she replied, exploring the contents of the said chest with her wing claws.  
She then noticed a silver flame shaped pendant. The one she gave Blister for her eighth birthday.  
This one is perfect! the red spikes Rathian said, delighted, giving it to one of the Felynes so he could tie it around her neck. And now, a tail cover ... Let's see, a silver one to match would be perfect ... Ah, there it is ! Hey, if I were told I would find my clothing in Blister’s stuff, I wouldn’t believe it ! 

She strutted for a few minutes in front of the mirror before checking the time.  
\- OH NO ! It's already time! Tourmaline exclaimed before hurrying to the reception hall.

Her parents, the king and the queen Khryselios and Chryselene, were waiting for her in front of the front door. The two royal Raths were wearing ornaments of the same color and luster as their robes, silver for the Silver Rathalos and gold for the Golden Rathian. They welcomed their promised daughter with kindness.

\- How beautiful you are, the queen said gently.  
\- Yes, you are splendid, the king added.  
\- Thanks Mother ! Thanks you too Father! I hope it’ll be the best day of my life, the Rathian said sincerely, hiding her apprehension.  
\- It will be, I promise, her noble father smiles.  
\- The guests are all there now, how about you presenting yourself to Lord Rakurai before the feast begins? his tender mother proposed.  
\- Okay, Tourmaline accepted with slight bitterness.  
At these words, the mother and the daughter entered the room.  
The young Rathian was amazed to see so many people and animation. There were countless tables of appetizers, crystal decorations, garlands of rubies and emeralds, as well as countless guests.  
\- I've never seen so many people before, the older princess said in amazement, how many are them ?  
\- 300 guests. Including 120 Rakurian aristocrats, 170 Rathiens, and some Ecumian courtiers, Chryselene replied.  
\- I must admit I’m feeling intimidated in front of so many people… the Rathian said.  
\- Don't worry, they're not going to eat you !  
\- I doubt it… Tourmaline murmured.  
They crossed the crowd performing a dozen curtsies, as well as many presentations of the bride to the Rakurians, who observed her as if she was a living treasure.  
“They have piercing and calculating eyes. It seems like they already consider me as their thing ... " the princess sighted inside her mind, shivering at each look intended.  
\- Here is Her Excellency Rakurai II, the Queen of the Rathlands announced, discreetly pointing to a large Zinogre with unusual colors.  
The young green wyvern froze in front of the almost menacing build of the Thunderlord Zinogre.  
\- He is …  
\- Imposing, yes. No one knows where he got his peculiar emerald color. As well as its amber fur. And his over developed right horn ... Let’s introduce yourself to him, the Golden Rathian added.  
\- Yes… agreed the princess, intimidated.  
"Dear Lunastra, he’s huge ! He must be able to slay a dozen of Aponoths with a single claw. I hope he’s not as scary as he looks, "she thought worriedly.  
\- Sir Rakurai, the queen bowed.  
The huge Zinogre Feu-du-Ciel turned to face his interlocutor, a Popo appetizer skewered on one of his claws.  
\- Oh, good evening, Queen Chryselene, the emperor said in a pleasant voice. And ... Could it be my promise, Lady Tourmaline ?  
The girl swung from one foot to the other with an awkward look.  
\- Yes, it's me, Your Excellence ...  
The emerald fanged wyvern smirked.  
\- You are very shy, it seems ...  
\- Let's say that ... I'm not really used to being so surrounded, the red-tipped Rathian replied, looking away for a moment, blushing.  
\- Oh ! You will get used to it, my dear. I will organize sumptuous parties in your honor, there, in Voltarr, the Zinogre articulated honeyingly, you will enjoy living there even more than here, in Ignis.  
The older princess shivered.  
\- I ... It must be beautiful over there ... she lied.  
It is. My palace is one of the most majestic in all Solhatar, you know ... the emperor wolf boasted, swallowing his appetizer.  
\- Oh yes. You will see for yourself, darling, Messire Rakurai’s palace is impressive, you will feel at home there, Chryselene approved.  
She looked for a moment at her own mother like she was a traitor.  
"She’s just respecting usage ... But it's so frustrating to see her behaving like that ..." the red spiked Rathian gritted her teeth mentally.  
She no longer knew what to say. Suddenly there was silence in the room, and Trumpet spoke to the guests, who turned to listen to him.  
\- Dear guests, thank you for honoring us with your presence tonight at this grand banquet, in honor of the marriage between Lady Tourmaline, the eldest daughter of Her Majesty Khryselios, and His Excellence Rakurai II, emperor of the Rakurai empire. You can now head to the reception hall, because the meal will be starting, the Qurupeco announced.  
The assembly then began to disperse in order to get to the mentioned room.  
\- Finally ! I was starting to get damn hungry ... ! Would you mind to accompany me, Lady Tourmaline? the emperor wolf inquired, touching the throat and chin of the green wyvern with his claw.  
Tourmaline swallowed, shivering again.  
"By Teostra, this man is indecent and terrifying! What have I gotten myself into ? » She thought in horror.

\- O-yes ... With joy, she released in a strangled voice, before following him.  
\- See you later, my dear ! her mother greeted, already returning to find her husband.  
\- See you later, Mother ... she said, in a voice so weak that she doubted she had even heard it.

When the future couple entered the reception hall, the majority of the guests had already sat around the various tables. She and Rakurai walked past many Rakurian aristocrats whom she forced herself to greet politely after the Emperor introduced her. He spoke of her in such a strange sweet way that he smelled of hypocrisy, but she let him do so, not having the right to speak in this type of situation. She contented herself with mimicking shy embarrassment in response to this sudden and unwanted praise. The Rakurians were even more picky than the Rathiens when it came to the role of women, docile and submissive, and it was better to not upset them. Even less the emperor.

Then she saw one of her brothers, Zenith, whom she discreetly nodded. He replied with a similar sign, and added a slight grimace, pointing to Rakurai with his chin. She smiles absently.

“He was right from the start. He seems to be a dirty guy. But it's too late now ... " she thought with a twinge of heart.

\- You seem very pensive, Lady Tourmaline, what were you thinking about right now ? Rakurai asked, in a tone that cleverly concealed his curiosity.  
\- Oh, nothing, she said, blushing, seeing so many people reminds me of my 17th birthday, that's all ...

The Thunderlord Zinogre pretended to accept this justification, but the princess felt he had been alerted by her somewhat abnormal behavior. She had to be more discreet if she wanted to communicate with her brothers and sisters in his presence, so as not to arouse any more suspicion.  
He had obviously lied about the fact that he was hungry, because the presentation session dragged on, and she was greatly relieved when her lover decided to join the royal table alongside his father and mother, as well as of the emperor's three sons, to let the meal begin.

\- My friends, let the feast begin! Rakurai declared, toasting, addressing his people. 

After a noisy approval typical of the Nordics, everyone drank their cup of fermented Mandrake, and the cooks began to bring the appetizers, a carpaccio of Popo decorated with spices from cold regions such as Mistentoe, Snow herbs, or dusk roots. This was giving a light and fresh taste, which the Rakurians truly enjoyed.

\- This dish is exquisite. Your people really know how to receive, the emperor wolf said to the bride.  
\- It's thanks to Knart, Tourmaline explained timidly. He does a great job. He’s been the king’s chef for twelve years now.  
Rakurai nodded.  
\- Very good work, he adds. What do you think, my sons? he asked, turning to his heirs, three Zinogres with unusual shades.  
\- Perfect, the first said, almost entirely white, except for his bright green horns and sapphire claws.  
\- They have the merit of having adapted their menu to their guests, the second continued, with ebony breastplate and white fur.  
\- Not bad, not bad, the last agreed, the scariest of the three. But our cooks have more experience in cutting meat, the lunar gray Zinogre with prominent horns and claws argued.

The emperor turned to face the princess again.

\- See ? Even my honorable descendants support my opinion.  
\- Indeed. Thank you, she said, bowing slightly, still as uneasy from the mere presence of the Thunderlord.  
Half an hour later, the main dishes arrived, and Knart came to greet the guests in person, after all the plates were brought to the thirty tables. The main dish was a piece of grilled Aptonoth meat with some spicy herbs, with a slice of Bullfango ham - also grilled- . It tooks the guests more than an hour this time to finish it. Time that Rakuraï filled by talking with his bride about her future life in the Nordic lands, of all the gifts he would give her, while she listened to him with a distracted ear.  
\- I will make paint a portrait of you, the emperor's thick voice whispered in Tourmaline's ear, who did not dare to reject him for fear of upsetting the Zinogre, and contented herself with ignoring him and his breath blooming alcohol.  
« He’s disgusting. Really disgusting. And more and more drunk. » the princess thought, seeing the emperor’s full again glass of Mandrake with concern.

\- Did I told you you were strikingly beautiful ? the electric wolf whispered.  
\- Yes, many times already … Tourmaline replied, as politely as possible.  
\- I don't think I've said it enough yet. I must say your grace only matchs your tender mother’s one ... Our Nordic courtesans cannot boast of such a ravishing size, you know ...

He almost said these words while drooling.

\- I think you’re praising me too much, sir.  
\- I'm not lying ! Kirin strikes me if I do ! the Thunderlord falsely rebelled.

" Lunastra burns me to ashes if this Zinogre is not the most hypocritical man I have ever seen in my whole life » the Rathian sighted mentally.

\- I see you’re worried, but do not fear me, I’ll be the most respectable of husbands, Rakuraï smiles, his exposed fangs expressing way more fear than comfort.

"Oh my god, why do I have to suffer such a punishment, although I’ve never offended Our Lord in my life? I must be cursed ... " Tourmaline thought.

The rest of the meal went more calmly. Knart did indeed come to the royal table, and after receiving the congratulations of the Rathien royal couple, he conversed for a long time with the Rakurian Emperor on the best ways to season meat. The discussion then drifted on the best possible cooking for a round of Popo, then on the ideal temperature for forging a copper breastplate, as Rakuraï requested. The Agnaktor, on the other hand, was delighted to find someone sharing his passion for gustatory and warlike craftsmanship, and was enjoying his chat with the Zinogre for hours. Tourmaline took advantage of these hours of respite to discreetly leave the table, in order to find her brothers and sisters, the Thunderlord having temporarily forgotten her. The elder princess joined them at their table, reserved for the Rathien heirs.

\- Hey, isn’t that Tourmaline! Blister exclaimed.  
\- I hope this Rakurai-guy isn’t too clingy, Phoenix quipped.  
\- From afar, he looked even more drunk, Zenith laughed.  
\- This guy have gobbled up all the popo appetizers ... Blast grunted.

Seeing them all like this, teasing her, comforted her a little after this meal spent in the company of the emperor. She sat down next to them and told them of her dismay about this Zinogre, while answering their questions. Only Arsenic remained silent, but she had a smile on her face, betraying her contentment.

\- Is it true that he's a little weird? Phoenix asked discreetly.  
She laughs.  
\- Kind of, yes. He spent the meal complimenting me while drinking. A perfect hypocrite.  
\- Nordic people sure are peculiar ... Always talking loudly and getting drunk as soon as possible ... Blast meditated, scratching his chin.  
\- And vulgar, Zenith spat.  
\- Don't say that, Zenith. They just have different customs, Arsenic noted, speaking for the first time since the banquet began.

The conversation continued for a while, then Tourmaline thought reasonable to return to her lover.

\- Okay ... I'll have to go. I'll return and say goodbye to you later, the red-tipped Rathian said sadly.  
\- Oh no, don’t leave yet ! the younger brother said, pouting.  
\- Come back quickly, sis’, Zenith spoke.  
\- Yes, Blister and Blast nodded.

Arsenic just nodded in understanding.  
Tourmaline therefore left the heirs' table to come back to the royal guests.  
\- Oh, Lady Tourmaline! I must tell you something, Rakurai hailed.  
\- Pardon ? she asked, not knowing what he wanted to say.  
\- I have just been told about a very important affair in Puolorag ... I fear it cannot wait until tomorrow ... I'm going to leave tonight to get there as soon as possible. Therefore, you will join me in Voltarr tomorrow morning ... Your father told me that he could send a carriage to make the journey, so everything is settled, the Zinogre announced. You can stay at the castle until tomorrow morning. I think you can take this opportunity to rest, my dear.  
\- Oh, that’s nice, I was afraid I would run out of time preparing my things… Nothing serious, I hope? She politely inquired.  
\- Let's say that this requires my presence as soon as possible. But nothing that jeopardizes peace between our two nations, I guarantee, the emperor said.  
\- Okay, the princess smiles. See you tomorrow, Your Excellence.  
She curtsied, then left the reception hall, and retired to her room some time later.  
"Tomorrow will be a long day," she thought as her servants took off her ornaments.

*************************************************************

The next day, the princess hurried to gather her things in order to leave shortly after dawn. Before leaving, she went to greet the servants, Knart, as well as each member of her family, who were waiting for her in the main hall.  
\- Goodbye, big sister, her watery brothers and sisters said, while embracing her.  
\- I will miss you terribly… The red-spiked Rathian said.  
\- Bon voyage, Zenith breathed out.  
\- I hope you’ll be happy there, Arsenic added.  
\- You will come back one day, aren’t you ? Phoenix asked.  
She tried to reassure them. She did not know herself when Rakurai would give her the opportunity to return to see her family, if he did. Her parents then came to give her their blessing.  
\- May Teostra protect you, my daughter, Khryselios wished.  
\- May Lunastra protect you from misfortunes, Chryselene said gently, touching her shoulders with her wings in a protective gesture.  
After saying goodbye, the carriage pulled by Aptonoths left the castle and headed for Voltarr. The accompanying convoy was made up of four Rathalos guards, in case they was attacked by outcasts, still present in the aftermath of the war in which the states found themselves.  
By the middle of the day, the convoy had already made half of the distance, and the Rakur border was close. Tourmaline, already starting to tire, looked at the forest landscape with reduced interest.  
« Brrr ... It must be freezing, over there in Voltarr, she whispered to herself. I hope i’ll not freeze on the spot… »  
She dreamed for a moment.  
"I wonder what the "majestic" palace of Messire Rakurai looks like ..." she thought.  
Suddenly, the voice of one of the Rathalos guard rose before being silenced.  
\- ALERT! WE ARE ATT…  
It sounded like it had been hit by a projectile.  
\- What's going on ? she asked the coachman.  
\- I have no idea, but it doesn’t sounds good, he replied with masked anguish.  
Suddenly, the body of the Rathalos guard crashed like a stone on the ground. Dead.  
\- BY TEOSTRA! He is dead ! the Rathian roared in horror.  
\- Don't panic my lady, the others will take care of this ... AAAAARGHH!  
The Felyne coachman had just been grabbed by a huge talon and thrown out of the vehicle.  
\- Sir! Are you fine ?! she cried.  
No answer.  
"By Lunastra, but what's going on ?! "  
She then got out of the carriage, only to find that the driver had just been beheaded on the spot. The princess roars in terror when she notices the lifeless bodies of the three other guards, also lacerated.  
\- But .. B-but ... W-Why ... she stammered, in tears.  
\- Sorry, lady. Nothing personal, but I'm afraid you have to die, a threatening voice hissed.  
The Rathian turned around, ready to fight.  
\- WHO ARE YOU ? WHY DO YOU WANT TO KILL ME?  
" It’s impossible. It must be an outcast… No one can want me dead ! ” she thought quickly, overwhelmed by events.  
\- Ah, sorry, I can't say. But enough, I have to make sure you’re dead as soon as the sun set.  
Suddenly, the attacker emerged from the forest. Fast as lightning, he swooped down on the green wyvern who could not block him with her wings, barely managing to escape his grip.  
\- You can't kill me! I represent the hope of peace between the Rakurai Empire and the Rathlands Kindom ! Why ?! she choked.  
The assassin laughed sardonically.  
\- Because some need the war to keep going.  
"But who can want such a thing ?! » Panicked the older princess.  
\- I’m not going to die ! I won’t not let you compromise this peace ! The Conflagration Rathian growled.  
\- Sorry, but I think you’ve misunderstood. You are going to die.  
\- Not while I can fight ! Tourmaline roared, making her tail scrape against the ground, causing embers to scratch her adversary, who did not even blink.  
Without answering, the murderer lunged at her, trying to imprison her between his claws. She narrowly avoided him, flew away and took the opportunity to spit a fireball at close range. His attacker countered the projectile with one of his wings, then replied with a tail blow, taking off too.  
"Ouch ... I could never defeat him! Am I really going to die ... Like that? The Rathian thought, recovering from the shock.

Without warning, the unknown flying wyverne swooped down on her again, and lacerated her left flank with his wing claw, unbalancing her. Furious, she wanted to seize him in order to throw him away, but the assassin took the opportunity to overthrow her, causing her to fall instead.  
The princess roared in pain, breaking her right wing when she crashed on the ground. She tried to get up, but collapsed.  
\- It's over, the murderer hissed, landing and immobilizing her with one talon on her valid wing, and the other on her throat.  
Tourmaline struggled to get rid of the grip on her chin strap, in vain.  
"This is the end. The peace to which all Rathiens aspired is going to be assassinated. "  
\- One last word ? The flying wyverne sarcastically asked.  
The Rathian was overcome with desperate rage.  
\- What my parents have been trying to achieve for two years, you're going to ruin it in two seconds, she spat in his face with all the hatred she could express.  
And the assassin cut her throat.


	3. Chapter 3 (Khryselios and Rakurai POV)

\- H-H ... How ...?!  
The King of the Rathlands refrained himself from bursting into tears, clenching his teeth.  
“Don't give in. Do not break in front of one of my subjects, else my person will be discredited ..." He ordered himself mentally, shocked by the news he’ve just been fed.  
The messenger in front of him, nervous, bowed her head, avoiding the almost pathetic sight of her sovereign. Uncomfortable, she snapped her tail pincer several times. Then she took a slow breath, and repeated slowly :  
\- Your daughter is dead, my Lord ... The convoy was attacked near the Rakurian border this morning ... No witnesses. The driver and the guards were all killed.  
He couldn't believe it. He couldn't hear this.  
" It's impossible. ... It is not possible ! » He roared inwardly.  
\- Tourmaline ... My dear Tourmaline is ... the king murmured in a hushed voice.  
The Astalos refrained from repeating her remarks, and remained silent. Khryselios hardly regained his calm, remaining relatively stunned and dismayed.  
\- Who ... Who could have compromised this marriage? It was a promise of peace !  
This time, the spy had to answer him, even if he wasn’t really listening to her.  
\- I'm not sure, your Majesty. Maybe Rathien rebels ? We count about a hundred revolutionaries in all the kingdom.  
The Silver Rathalos gave her a fierce look for a moment, then plunged back into thought, pacing.  
\- No ... It is not credible. Civilians, even armed, would not have succeeded in killing four soldiers trained and protected by armors ... Even with ten against one. It cannot be a traitor, because we all know that we must obtain this peace… He thought, gesturing his wings, as if to illustrate his words.  
\- The bodies were found lacerated, like a blade would do. The precision of the cut wounds makes us think that an assassin could be behind all this, the dragonfly-like wyvern specified.  
\- However, no kingdom or state could wish for the death of my daughter! the King of the Rathlands snarled.  
"It’s simply unthinkable ... Where would this murderer come from ? And who, by extension, would be willing to resume this war ? "  
\- Unless ... the female soldier thought aloud.  
\- What do you suggest as another hypothesis, Astalian?  
The so-called Astalian wiggled from one leg to the other, hesitant.  
\- Well ... maybe it's a provocation ... from Rakurai.  
Khryselios's eyes widened, bewildered.  
"On one hand, it could make sense ... But would Rakuraï be so deceitful ? To the point of wanting to dishonor myself by planning the murder of my eldest daughter ? After asking me to offer her as a tribute for peace? To better crush us then ? A real Nordic would not do such a thing ... But it’s the only possible explanation ... By the two Lions ... How would he dare ... "  
\- No exploitable trace to find this cursed criminal ? the silver Rathalos asked, bitter.  
\- Search for clues is still underway around the area, but I’m afraid we’re dealing with a professional, the spy replied.  
\- So be it. Until we have proof, I declare the Rakurai Empire guilty of this murder, the sovereign scolded.  
The female Astalos looked up quickly. Her crest shivered with anxiety.  
\- But, my Lord ! We are no longer able to continue this war!  
\- We'll have to, Astalian. I cannot ignore such outrage at the Rathlands’ royal family, Khryselios harshly said.

He saw panic arise in the insectoid wyvern, who forced herself to remain calm.

\- Should I warn General Tinarg of the resumption of the war ?  
The king of the Rathlands straightened up, and let his anger appear on his face.

\- Yes. We will launch an offensive on Voltarr in a week, unless we get evidence of the innocence of the Rakurians before.

************************************************

\- WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY « SHE’S DEAD » ?! HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN ?! The Rakurian Emperor thundered.

He broke his silver cup filled with mead in a fit of rage. The Barioth in front of him shuddered, but did not blink.

\- Wasn't she accompanied by four Rathian guards ?! He went on, calming down a bit.  
\- The convoy appeared to be attacked by an assassin, Your Excellence. The four Rathalos who guarded her all had their throats cut, as well as the princess herself. No tracks to find the culprit. But I think we can say we are looking for a flying individual, pretty much light, and who knows how to handle blades, the flying saber-toothed tiger replied calmly.  
\- This kind of description does not allow to suspect a Rakurian ... the electric wolf muttered.  
The Thunderlord Zinogre seemed to think for a moment.  
\- It hampers my plans tremendously ... he growled. This princess, in addition to ... distracting me, would have allowed me to have a grip on Rathlands, to hold them at my mercy, to ...  
"Ah, Khryselios ... You would have been so stupid that if I had raised my finger on your dear daughter, you would have offered me your wife without any remorse ... Or your kingdom ... Who knows, maybe even both ..." He thought with delight.  
"But fate decided otherwise, so be it. But I’m not done yet. This isn’t going to ruin my dreams of conquest. "  
Rakurai engulfed himself.  
\- This is a shame. The soft method can not therefore be used ... Mmmhh ... What grieves me is the fact we have no clues about this murderer, he meditated, scratching his chin. Who knows, for lack of evidence, I could find the Rathlands guilty of treason ... And finish the job I started ...  
"And take another princess hostage ..."  
He discovered his fangs in an eager smile.  
\- You can go, Blizzard. This event is not so tragic, after all ... We will take Ignis by storm in a week.  
Said Blizzard again had a slight shiver.  
\- It’ll be done, Your Excellence. How many men should I get ? Five hundred ?  
The emperor's pupils narrowed in excitement.  
\- A thousand. I want a thousand men.  
There was a silence during which he contemplated his claws.  
\- The war is not over, and I wish a grand victory, he explained, tightening his claws on his right palm. Overwhelming. Gorgeous. Quick ... I want Akalash at the palace by tomorrow. Do your best to bring him back to me, he finally finished.  
The Barioth this time moved back.  
\- Emperor Rakurai, I don't think he will accept ...  
\- Wasn't I clear? He cut him off in a threatening tone.  
\- I-indeed, Your Excellence, the spy gave up before retiring.  
Resuming his meditation position, the Zinogre plunged back into his expansionist dreams.  
"I will finally be able to get my hands on the Rathlands ... Our soldiers have nothing to fear from the Rathiens. They will strike them down like flies ... On the other hand, we will make only a mouthful of Ignis and its defenses ... We will kill the princes, the nobles, and rape their wives ... As for their unhappy king, he will have nothing left than his eyes to cry ... I envy this day ... It’s only a matter of time. "  
He concludes his reflection with a patient and sadistic smile.  
"Soon, very soon, I will reign over the Rathlands ..."


	4. Chapter 4 (Arsenic POV)

Arsenic followed his brother down the corridor to the throne room.   
Dreaming, she stared at the marble columns, and then at her claws with an empty gaze, betraying her intense reflection.

Since her adoptive father had revealed Tourmaline's death to the rest of the royal family the day before, she and Zenith had been meditating on the inevitable return to war that the loss of their sister would bring. Unable to sleep after hearing the news, they had been conferring all night long to decide what they could do to remedy the current situation, or at least contribute to it. Both knew that the country had been very weakened over the past ten years by the Bloody War, which was thought to be over because of this arranged marriage, which had become a fiasco. During this decade of misfortune, the Rathiens forces had not succeeded in defeating the Nordics, and have been struggling to push them back. However, motivated by the desire to tip the scales in their favour, in order to re-motivate the troops and put up greater resistance to the Rakurians, the two elders wanted this time to enlist themselves in the army, still counting on the fact that the will and hope of the Rathiens seeing their involvement could help them to win. Indeed, the two heirs had each been trained as warriors, since their earliest childhood, by Generals Astalian and Tinarg themselves. A preventive measure against possible offensives on the castle, said Khryselios, who everyone knew was terrified at the thought of losing one of his precious children.  
We know how to fight," said Zenith, "why should we give up using our skills? It would be foolish to let the troops die slowly when we can help them face Rakurai. »  
She had agreed, of course, but had pointed out to him that their parents, and her father in particular, would certainly refuse to let them make such a commitment.   
I don't care what Khryselios will think," he had replied, "as long as it’s my future kingdom being in danger we’re talking about. »  
They planned to announce their decision to their father that evening and to tell him the next day.

\- What are you thinking about, sis?" the Dreadking asked lightly,, looking over his shoulder.  
She raised her head a little, and laid her amethyst eyes on him.  
\- ... You know what I'm thinking about," she frowns slightly.  
He turned around and grazed her with one of his wings in a loving gesture.  
\- Do not worry about that. He won't be able to stop me. You know me, I'm far too stubborn," he reassured her.  
That was precisely what was worrying her. Nevertheless, she tried to return a shy smile.   
\- As for you, you know that he doesn't have the legitimacy to tell you otherwise ...  
She received this word as a pinch in her heart, despite its truthfulness.   
\- Let's go in," he said, as the Seltas guards opened the Golden Claw’s door.  
Arsenic nodded and followed him.

**********************************

\- Father! I must speak to you!" the Dreadking spoke in a loud voice as he stood up, letting his echo echo reverberate throughout the room and amplify the power of his words.  
A few seconds later, the ruler of the Rathlands appeared, greeted his two children from the head and sat on his throne.  
\- Good morning, Zenith. Good morning, Arsenic. What do you wish to tell me? Khryselios asked, redirecting his gaze to him.  
Arsenic could then feel her brother beside her swelling with courage and determination.  
\- I've come to tell you that Arsenic and I have decided to join the army as soldiers," he proclaimed with a certain ferocity.  
Khryselios shuddered and froze for a moment.  
\- It's not possible, my son. I don't want you to get personally involved in this conflict," he replied calmly.  
In front of him, Zenith was still forcing himself to contain his raging anger, ready to impose his choice.  
"He considers him responsible for the death of our older sister ... But does he need to go to that extreme? To provoke his own father, to challenge his orders? Does he want to run away from him by accomplishing this...?"the Dreadqueen pondered, her eyes glued to her brother's glowing irises.  
\- We've undergone royal training since we were ten years old. We can fight and support our army. We can win this war if everyone puts their heart into it, starting with us. Phoenix is still too young for that, but Blast would be willing to join us if we can get your agreement," he said.  
Arsenic shivered. The intensity with which he supported his "us" was almost frightening.  
"More and more, I can feel it. That fierce desire to take over, to lead the kingdom... The frustration of not being able to act... It's palpable. You almost believe he'll be able to overthrow his father tomorrow. »  
The king looked astonished when he saw Zenith's fierce will.  
\- It's far too dangerous, Zenith. You're not going to fight. Not you, not Arsenic, nor Blast. I don't want anything to happen to you. Your presence would have no real effect on our chances of victory. It's useless, believe me.   
The Dreadqueen Rathian then felt her brother's rage, letting out a threatening growl of resentment.  
\- I want to fight alongside my people, grumbled the Dreadking Rathalos, as do all other nations. Even this dog of Rakurai fights among his troops, and allows his sons to enlist ! So, if you want to keep sitting on your throne, you shall know that your sons and daughter may not agree with this.  
There was a silence during which the father and son settled down with tension. Arsenic then took the floor.

\- We believe that our commitment will greatly motivate the troops, and therefore increase our chances of success. Most members of the royal family have extraordinary abilities. It would be selfish to deprive the army of such a resource, she said calmly. I understand your apprehension, but it's time for us to choose what we want ourselves. We are no longer children.  
Khryselios seemed cornered and helpless, his wings drooping until he touched the ground.  
\- I can't let you go, the king finally let go after a moment, shaking his head. The survival of the kingdom is at stake. What would I do without heirs, tell me ?   
Zenith, still beaming with anger, hastened to reply.  
\- You won't need heirs if you don't have a kingdom anymore," the Prince of the Rathlands spat. And you’re not the one stopping us from doing our will.  
He then glanced at the Rathian with determination.  
\- We're leaving, Arsenic,” he announced solemnly, without deigning to observe his father's reaction.   
And without a word, she followed him out of the throne room.

****************************************

\- Let's go ask Knart to make some armor pieces for us," Zenith whispered quietly in her ear as he left the castle before heading to the forge.  
She nodded silently.  
"How will he be convincing Knart we had Khryselios’ agreement ? Knowing Zenith, he must already be up to something ..." she thought as they walked along the pavement of the capital.  
Ignis, despite the impending return to war, seemed quite calm this morning. The stalls were just beginning to open, like flower buds at first light, and the market was not yet crowded. Everything still seemed to be asleep and calm. The blue countryside in the distance was not yet awake. The only thing betraying the renewal of the warlike agitation was the presence of metallic noises rising in the azure sky, coming from the roaring and glowing forges where armours were already being made and polished. The hammer blows could be heard in the morning silence at least a kilometre away, clearly and regularly, like a carillon announcing the hour of awakening, not only for the inhabitants, but also for the armourers, soldiers and mercenaries. In the distance, the white stone walls of the royal enclosure were beginning to be bathed in the chilly sun, as were the red or green roofed houses.  
Arsenic and Zenith had been advancing through the city awake for about ten minutes when they reached Knart's forge, who immediately noticed them and abandoned his task to come and meet them.  
\- Greetings, my lords! To what do I owe your visit so early in the morning?" the Agnaktor asked with a gracious curtsy.  
Her brother smiled. He was very fond of Knart, even though he often reproached him, like many others servants, for his excessive zeal towards members of the royal family.  
\- Good morning Knart, so motivated first thing in the morning? You always impress me! And no need for titles, dear friend, laughed the King-Enfer.  
The Dreadqueen felt the outline of a smile on her face.  
\- I don't think our good old friend will ever get used to the idea of being on first-name terms, if you ask me," she said, stepping forward to stand by his side.  
The volcanic leviathan suddenly looked distressed.  
\- Forgive me, my lords ... I wanted to offer you my condolences, for Lady Tourmaline ... he said, whispering his last words, his eyes filled with sincere compassion.  
Brother and sister looked at each other with painful embarrassment.  
\- Thank you, Knart," thanked Arsenic in place of his brother, somewhat upset by the name of his deceased sister, and absorbed in his thoughts. We came to ask if it was possible to get three dragonite breastplates with lightning protection, as well as three light visorless helmets and two caudal armors forged for us, as soon as possible, please.  
The Agnaktor blinked several times in disbelief.  
\- What do you mean ? Y-You're going to the front? B-b-but! It's very dangerous, you know! He panicked. And ... If y-you don't have your father's approval, I'm sorry to tell you that I won't be able to grant your request ... he added then, forcing a tense and anxious smile, for fear of angering the two elders.  
Zenith seemed to come to his senses at that moment.  
\- We have our father's agreement, I swear by Teostra," he said with conviction, raising his right wing as a sign of promise. And we know what that means. We want to take part in the fight to enable the Rathiens to win this war; we are capable of it. Isn't it the duty of a prince to serve his people?  
Arsenic smiles inwardly.  
"Well done, Zenith. Knart, despite his great loyalty to the king, takes our word for it and won't dare ask Khryselios for confirmation... and if our father ever finds out... he certainly won't have the heart to question it. He knows it would serve no purpose, except to tell his people how helpless he has become... even to his own children. "she thought with a hint of sadness.  
\- W-well then, if you have the king's consent..." repeated the Agnaktor, looking down. I'll start working on your armor right away! They'll be finished in three days, at the most, depending on the arrival of my metal shipment... We're starting to run out of metal, you know...

Zenith nodded. The war effort that had been going on for ten years was beginning to run out of steam, and mining resources were increasingly scarce ... Thus, due to budgetary restrictions, each soldier had only one iron breastplate as armor, which covered the central part of the back and the thorax, which was provided by the army. If they wanted more protection, it was up to them to pay for their equipment. A few exceptions, such as the two generals Tinarg and Astalian, had the privilege of owning equipment entirely financed by the royal family itself. As for Zenith and Arsenic, they had no problem acquiring such things, thanks to their pocket money.  
The Agnaktor started counting on its webbed fingers.  
\- Mmmh ... With all you're asking me here, we'll get a total of 800 Rathdors," he said, "is it in your budget?  
The brother and sister nodded simultaneously, and Zenith placed a leather pouch in the Agnaktor's palm.  
\- Thank you, my lords," he said, bowing. I’m honoured to do business with you.  
\- And so are we," replied Arsenic.  
The magmatic leviathan made a final curtsy before returning to his work.  
\- Good. Now that's done," the Dreadking sighted.  
Arsenic elbowed him lightly.  
\- Hey, don't make that face, as if lying really bothered you," she teased him with malicious eyes.  
Her brother looked falsely offended.  
\- Me, lying? All I did was tell the truth! If Knart doubts the truth of what I said, he can ask Father, and Father will say...  
\- We know, we know, he will answer yes out of defeatism," the Rathian said, looking up to the sky.  
Zenith smiled sideways.  
\- See ? I didn’t lie !

****************************************

\- Missed! Try to aim lower so you don't miss your target!" Astalian cried, blocking Arsenic's hooded tail with his caudal clip.  
Arsenic clenched her teeth but quickly recovered. She had been training for three hours and had only managed to hit the Astalos ten times. Growling to get her motivation back, she threw an umpteenth shot with her tail at the head of the royal spy, which grazed her.  
\- Lack of speed !  
The Dreadqueen Rathian followed with a bite, which the Astalos avoided by flying away.  
\- That's not bad. But don't leave so much time out when you do this, the Astalian advised. Come on, one more try and then we'll move on to shooting, motivated?  
\- Of course I am!" roared Arsenic, suddenly in a frenzy.  
\- That's perfect. Try a sweep again then, faster, and then continue with a turnaround, she asked him.  
Arsenic returned to her initial position, then performed the indicated sequence. Transfer of support on right leg, rotation, sweep of the tail, targeted low, transfer of support on left leg, then back-flip tail strike, targeting higher, taking off to add power to the strike.  
\- Touchdown!" she exclaimed as she felt her metal tailcap hit the Astalos' helmet.  
\- Excellent! If I didn't have anything on my head, I certainly would have been knocked out," she congratulated her. Shall we move on to shooting now? Unless you want to work on your poison first?  
The eldest rested on the ground.  
\- I prefer shooting first. I still lack precision, I think.  
\- Oh, believe me, you're still doing better than Phoenix!" Astalian answered. I think he still hasn't grasped the concept of 'aiming,'" she lamented.  
Arsenic laughed at this evocation. The youngest of the siblings had difficulty controlling his flames, and often ended up burning everything down while training.  
Tinarg and Astalian already explained to him that concentrate a part of these flames to hit the target was enough, but the Firedrake Rathalos turned a deaf ear, claiming that as long as the target was destroyed, it was good,, to the great displeasure of the generals.   
\- I'm going to look for targets, take a break in the meantime," said the female Astalos as she flew away.  
Arsenic nodded imperceptibly. She stretched out her wings for a moment, then approached the water trough to drink, then dipped her sweaty, shiny head into it.  
"Brrr. I shouldn't refresh my head like this, I'm going to have difficulty producing flames after ... But never mind. It helps me concentrate. "she thought before she took her head out of the water.  
She took a deep breath, warmed the inside of her throat, and then tried to spit out a flame, successfully.  
\- I'm back!" announced the Astalos, putting three wooden targets on the ground. We don't have many left, so I only took three ... I hope it's all right.  
\- It’ll do the job," the Dreadqueen replied, shrugging her shoulders.  
\- Good ! For the first shot, we'll try a flame-throwing jet from ten meters away, can you do that?  
She mused about this for a few seconds. Possible, but not easy.  
\- We can always try, but it might be difficult.  
\- It would be to re-evaluate your power distance, don't worry," Astalian explained as she went to place the target at ten meters. Ready when you are!  
The Astalos retreated several steps back and looked at Arsenic until she made up her mind. She took a step back, slowly inhaled the oxygen needed for combustion, then used her fangs to create the spark that ignited her jet of orange flames, which she then blew with all her might towards the target. The target was only licked by her flames, despite the effort of the Queen Poison, who gave in a few seconds later, coughing because of the overexertion of her throat.  
\- Nine meters and sixty centimeters! You've progressed since the last time," said the general.  
Arsenic sighed.  
\- I wish I could have made it to ten meters anyway.  
Astalian came up to her and tapped her shoulder amicably.  
\- It’s not given to everyone to even hold eight meters, you know... Well, second try, we'll try to refine your accuracy at a distance of thirty meters, I'm going to change the target," said Astalos as he executed the shot.  
Scraping the wet sand under her talons, the Rathian reconcentrated.  
\- You can go!" Astalian shouted to her.  
Visualizing the target in her head, she concentrated her combustion gas in a precise point in her mouth for a few seconds. Then, with a very sharp reaction, she ignited her sphere and spat it straight at the target. Bull's-eye.  
\- Perfect!" she said, extinguishing the flames with her wings. One last one at forty, would you like that?  
\- Why not!" the Rathian shouted at her from the other end of the field.  
The general changed the target again and moved it back another ten meters.  
\- Go on!  
"I can do it. I can do it. It's just a matter of concentration. »  
Determined, she filled her lungs with air and then spat out a flaming sphere again towards the wooden panel. Bull’s-eye again.  
-Good job !" Astalian smiled as she returned to her. I think you've assimilated the trick.  
\- Thank you," said Arsenic, herself satisfied with her performance.  
\- A small sword duel to finish?" proposed her coach who picked up her sword with her pincer.  
The elder's eyes filled with motivation.  
Although she was not as fond of sword fighting as Astalian, she liked the idea. Indeed, only Astalian fought with a weapon, and this one was special. Instead of having a leather hilt like the vast majority of swords, her sword was made entirely out of metal. This allowed her, thanks to her natural production of electricity, especially through the tail, wings and crest, to electrify it for fighting. Of all the kingdom, only she knew how to handle the blade perfectly and enjoyed fighting with it. As for Arsenic, she enjoyed these untimely duels, but did not really enjoy handling the sword.  
\- Let's go," accepted the Queen Poison.  
Astalian pointed to her tailcoat with her weapon, which she held in her tail-clamp.  
\- Take that off, so you can practice.  
Without a word, she undid her silver tailpiece, letting her highly venomous tail appendage release volatile toxins into the air.  
\- Here we go!" the female Astalos growled as she flew away.  
Arsenic began by slamming her tail to the ground, causing several small toxic purple crystals to form. She picked one up as a weapon with one of her talons and flew away. Seizing the opportunity to make the first movement, Astalian swooped on her with her claws out. Arsenic avoided her, but immediately retaliated with a fiery bite to prevent the Astalos from continuing with a sword blow.  
"I'm beginning to know your techniques now, you know," she chuckled inside.  
Frustrated, the dragonfly charged her wings with green electricity, then released a bolt of lightning towards her target, who took it without pain, and retaliated with a blow from her crystallized poison that struck the void.  
"This rubber-coated breastplate is really effective, I didn't feel a thing," Arsenic thought.  
Leaving no respite for the spy, she continued to try to hit the Astalos, in vain.  
\- You're not going to get me by multiplying random blows," cried the general.  
The Rathian gnashed her teeth. True enough.   
"Concentrate again, Arsenic, you're getting distracted. "she ordered herself.  
Astalian then tried to strike a vertical blow with her sword, but only touched one end of her opponent's right wing, which trembled and moved several meters away because of the electricity that painfully irradiated his wing limb.  
"Ouch. I really need to avoid getting hit in the wings by lightning... "  
Grumbling at the throbbing sting, she rushed to catch the dragonfly wyvern with her claws, but Astalian dodged by rising a little higher in the air, receding sharply, and then summoned another bolt of lightning, which this time missed its target. The Rathian took advantage of this time out, and once again threw herself sharply at the Astalos, which did not react quickly enough to free herself from Arsenic's claws, and ended up pinned to the ground, with the poisonous blade a few centimetres from her throat.  
\- I think I've won," said theDreadqueen, removing it and letting the warrior stand up.  
\- It was well done," she confessed with a smile.


	5. Chapter 5 (Rakurai POV)

Braving the blizzard battering his golden fur, Rakurai slowly continued his ascent of Mount Tsereve, pushing his broad claws into the thick covering of snow.   
"Grrr ... We should soon be there, but by Kirin, what a storm! Akalash really has a knack for electing residence in the most incongruous place... The highest mount of all Solhatar, no less ! "the emperor cursed as he stopped, looking down below at his sons, who were following him with more difficulty.  
\- Are you making it, back there?" he cried out to be heard through the roar of the wind.  
It was Oxiderr, the eldest of the siblings, who answered:  
\- Let's say that we've had a quieter ride! the moon-colored Zinogre replied angrily.  
Despite the roar of the icy gusts, the Thubderlord heard the other two behind moaning in approval.   
\- Cheer up, all of you! The summit is not far away! he roared.  
Raising his amber irises, the emperor admired for a moment the landscape that stretched to the horizon, before resuming his laborious march. From here, Voltarr could be guessed from the imposing emerald towers of his palace and the Thunder Claw that flowed into the taiga. If it were not for the ghastly wind, one could certainly discern the Rathlands Plains in the distance.  
"I should have known that Akalash would send my messengers back without even granting them an audience... But even so, it is arrogant to ask for my own travel! What's wrong with him ? Why won't he accept to listen to my intermediaries? It would have saved me that damned climbing ... Grrr ... " Rakurai thought, irritated, his jaw tightened, the gusts of wind slapping his snout.  
He had never really seen Akalash. His father, when he was still alive, had frequently spoken to him about the Hero, about this incredible warrior with unbelievable power, who was even believed to be able to manipulate the winds, according to certain legends. He had told him a thousand times how his metal scales deflected blows, sliced through bodies, and absorbed lightning, flames, ice, water, or even draconic energy. He seemed invincible and almighty. Rakurai, as a young cub, always listened carefully to these stories, no matter how many times his father told them. Like every citizen of the empire, he had grown up with the great respect for the name of Akalash. But there, he had to admit that this exemplary Hero had to be particularly haughty to request a face-to-face interview with the new emperor of the Rakurai Empire ...  
Suddenly, after a long hour, he saw a dark spot in the middle of the white whirlpool that was drowning his sight. Squinting his eyes, he managed to see through it a large cavity of rock.  
"The cave! It was about time ! »  
\- Here we are!" the Thunderlord announced as he turned around, his echo resonating in the polar air several times like a powerful bark.  
\- By Kirin’s Horn ! I thought we'd never make it! moaned Acheron, the Stygian Zinogre with black shell and silvery fur.  
\- Stop whining, Acheron, or I'll gut you! You've done nothing but whine all the way up!" Oxiderr grunted.  
\- It's true ! He didn't stop complaining about the fact he was cold, that his feet hurt, that he ...  
Irodim, the snow-white Zinogre with emerald green horns, didn’t have time to finish his sentence, Acheron having jumped on him to bite him.  
\- Let go of me, you Zamite! he spat at the youngest, pushing him away with his broad blue legs, uncovering his fangs.  
The patriarch contemplated the scene with some dismay.  
\- Acheron, release your brother, Irodim, stop bothering him, and you Oxiderr, will you please stop this hyena's laughter, by all the Gods?!   
The three cubs apologized, and then, to their great regret, stopped this fight, under the sermonizing gaze of their imposing father.  
\- Well, well, well. Now follow me, and try to be as discreet as possible," Rakurai mumbled, pointing to the entrance of the rocky conduit. Akalash is known to be a light sleeper, and waking him up would surely put him in a bad mood, which is something I don't need, given my request ...  
Irodim looked intrigued.

\- Say daddy, why do we respect so much Akalash?" asked the youngest of the three sons, leaning his head to the side.  
The emperor opened his mouth to answer, but Acheron hastened to seize the opportunity to shut up his brother with a display of knowledge.  
\- Akalash granted his power to our grandfather, Rakurai I, forty years ago, to help him overthrow Agnov, king of Agnovia, the ancient name of Rakuria. Legend has it that Rakurai I prayed to Kirin to help him accomplish his revolution for a whole week, day and night, at the closest to the Gods, at the top of Mount Tsereve, so that his prayer would be heard. At the end of the seventh day, Akalash appeared before him, and the blizzard that was blowing constantly on the peak suddenly stopped, as if he himself had driven it away. Now, in the Great Codex, it is said that "he who clears storms is sent by Kirin". Rakurai I knew then that Kirin had heard him, and that he had sent Akalash to support him in his quest for a perfect and just empire. Thanks to his divine power, they reduced Agnov and his army to dust," the Stygian Zinogre told with the shining eyes of this epic tale. Then, after our grandfather took power and created an empire in his name, Akalash, feeling his duty done, and not wishing to receive the glory of his achievement, decided to retreat to a place where no one would seek to seize his powers, to the top of Mount Tsereve, the highest and most hostile of all Solhatar, as a tribute to the place where he had first appeared. Some say that the wind is blowing here all the time to discourage evil spirits from disturbing him in his sleep..." Acheron finished, anchoring his gaze on the cave that supported the peak of Tsereve, his heart filled with excitement, ignoring his two brothers who both stared at him in exasperation.  
Rakurai smiled slightly. Although he reproached Acheron for often allowing himself to be dominated by Oxiderr and his little brother, he admired in the Stygian Zinogre this deep attachment to history and heritage, which the other two did not possess. He preferred to lock himself up for days to read ancient manuscripts dealing with the history of all states out of thirst for knowledge, while Irodim and Oxiderr spent most of their time bickering or training for combat, or both. His calm and patience were proof that all the virtues of their deceased mother had not been lost.

Filled with a certain paternal pride, he affectionately ruffled the head of the second oldest, who let out a small yelp of indignation.  
\- I am glad that at least one of you is paying attention to what I’m saying ... Thank you, Acheron," he said.  
\- That doesn't explain to me why he’s respected so much ... He's not a god, as far as I know, though! the immortal Zinogre retorted back, unconvinced, and furiously jealous of Acheron's special treatment.  
The jet black Zinogre took offence at such words.  
\- How can you say that, you fool! He is a hero! He was sent by Kirin himself to save our people who were suffering from Agnov's domination! Thanks to him, the revolutionaries overthrew him in three days! If he heard you, he could take revenge for such an outrage by killing you right on the spot! he cried out with sudden virulence.  
The Thunderlord decided to intervene once again.  
\- Oh dear!" he scolded, separating the two younger ones who were going to start fighting again. Fortunately, I ask you to be silent!  
He sighed, exhaling a little mist. Perhaps he should not have taken them with him after all ... Even if he had thought it better to offer them to accompany him, so that they would not cause chaos in his palace, but in a place where he could keep an eye on them, he was beginning to regret his decision ... The emperor had also thought that a little exercise would do them good and would relieve them, but in addition to being more difficult than expected, this climb had turned into the perfect opportunity for his three sons to quarrel.  
They then made their way toward the entrance of the cave, and Rakurai asked his three cubs to be quiet one last time before entering the cave. The rock tunnel was wide, dark, and silent. The rough walls were gleaming with a metallic sheen, betraying the presence of many rare minerals that had certainly been dormant here for millennia. The Thunderlord Zinogre marveled at the nobility and beauty of the place that was home to the greatest warrior that Rakuria has ever known. There was a legendary scent in the damp, icy air that made the emperor himself shudder.

"Amazing. Everything seems to be ordering us to respect this place, and not to desecrate it in any way ..." he said, lightly brushing a carbalite ore from his claw with greedy thoughts.  
"As I regret not being able to seize all these resources ..." he thought as he imagined many uses for all these precious veins.  
After a few meters, the father and his sons saw a gleam of light emanating from the bottom of the cave. A strange noise, slow, regular and screeching resounded down to them.  
\- What is it?" Irodim whispered.  
\- I think it's his breathing," Acheron breathed.  
Curious, they went deeper and deeper into the cave, following the ray of light. The conduit then led to a vast circular room, which let a trickle of light pass through its center, where the hero lay, his chest rising at regular intervals, deeply asleep on the rock, in the middle of what bathed him like a halo.  
The emperor stood still. Akalash must have been about twice his size, yet already imposing.   
"By Kirin, it is a giant! "exclaimed the Thunderlord mentally.  
Looking behind him, he noticed that the three Zinogres were just as giddy.  
Approaching the enormous sleeping mass, he noticed that his father's stories were true. Akalash was a titanic dragon with steel scales, not one of which showed any trace of a wound, despite the many fights fought. Rakurai thought with delight of the consequences of the engagement of such a warrior in the assault of Ignis, caressing with his eyes the curve of the dragon's claws.  
"He would make short work of the Rathiens. Perhaps he would even eradicate them all, just by himself. No casualties. Only profit, for me .... And the Rakurians, of course. It would be fabulous ... "  
However, after looking over it many times, the emperor noticed that the hero's natural metal armor seemed much duller than in the stories. Often, the peculiar brilliance of its anthracite scales was evoked, blinding his enemies as it bathed in sunlight. Here, however, they were abnormally worn and dull, as rusty, and Rakurai thought as he got closer that the humidity in the cave might be the cause of this oxidation.   
Seeing that the dragon was deeply asleep, and that nothing seemed to encourage his spontaneous awakening, Rakurai began to clear his throat, and then spoke loudly:  
\- Great Akalash? I hope not to disturb your rest, but … the emperor began, a little disconcerted by the fact that his interlocutor did not react, I would like to share with you a noble request, if you agree.  
There was a silence during which he feared that Akalash would not deign to answer him.  
It was almost unbearable for the Zinogre of emerald shell to bend to the will of the dragon like this, but he clearly had no other option. His power had to be respected. If he wasn’t sleeping peacefully on the top of this mountain, all would fear his fury, as it was reputed to be as fierce as that of a god. He therefore had a great interest in rubbing him the right way, in order to hope to obtain his agreement.  
All of a sudden, a brief, light crackling sound is heard. The massive and rusty body moved, rising slowly and softly, as if pulled by a string. Then a second sound was heard, and a long, clear crack appeared along the dragon's spine. From the spine, a thin, white, ice-eyed head sprang up and scanned the four Zinogres watching the scene in amazement. With another squeak, broad, white wings spread out on either side of a majestic head. Finally, an entire body was born from the rusted carcass, and gracefully emerged from it. Already, under the effect of the air, the white scales gradually turned silvery, until they were the usual color of steel.  
Akalash had just moulted.  
The dragon with the shiny new metal scales swept his piercing gaze over the spectators and then stopped it on Rakurai. His throat, which seemed as erratic as his old body was rusty, made a strange creaking sound before releasing intelligible words.  
\- Who ... Are you?" he said in a deep voice.  
Rakurai took several seconds to realize that the hero had just spoken, stunned by his simple presence.  
\- I am Rakurai II, emperor of Rakuria," he replied calmly.  
Akalash's azure gaze became more intense.  
\- That's what I thought ... Rakurai's son, the first of his name ... Should I deduce that he has left this world?   
The emperor nodded.  
\- Yes. Twenty-three years ago.  
The sadness could suddenly be read inside the eyes of the steel dragon. The rest of his body betrayed no feelings.  
\- That is regrettable ... he said so low that it seemed like a whisper, Tell me, Emperor, how many years have passed since the Agnovian rebellion?  
Despite his use of the term "emperor", Rakurai felt the hero's total disinterest in titles of nobility.  
\- 45 years old, Great Akalash.  
The hero meditated.  
\- I see. Are these your heirs, Rakurai, the second of the name? he inquired, noticing Acheron and Irodim hiding behind their elder, who was not intimidated for two pennies.  
Rakurai looked at his sons with measured pride, then nodded his head.  
\- Yes, Oxiderr, Acheron, and Irodim, he presented them with a claw.  
Akalash stared at each of them for a few seconds, as if he was reading their thoughts like an open book. Bringing his gaze back to their father, he nodded without a word.  
\- What is your request, Emperor?   
Raising his eyes towards his interlocutor to anchor them in his own, the Thunderlord finally exposed his intentions.  
\- I wish you back among us, in the army, Great Akalash. You see, a war broke out ten years ago between Rakuria and the kingdom of the Rathlands. It was particularly exhausting for the two countries, and neither wanted to give up their land to the other. A week ago, Khryselios and I signed an armistice in exchange for the spoils of war of my choice," Rakurai explained. I chose as such his eldest daughter, as well as part of the dowry of the other two, in order to have a means of pressure on Khryselios. However, this princess was murdered on the very day she was due to arrive in Voltarr. I began to search for the culprit, but it proved to be in vain. By default, I speculated that the Rathiens might have been responsible. Two days later, I learned from one of my messengers that the Rathlands were once again declaring war on me, accusing me of having slit the Princess's throat myself in order to humiliate them. I therefore concluded, for my part, that my intuition was true, and that all this was just a masquerade intended to humiliate me, letting the Rathiens taking advantage of a time-out, certainly used to rearm themselves. I then decided to launch an assault on Ignis a week later, and sent messengers to tell you of my wish to receive you into our army. Seeing your refusal to listen to intermediaries, I went there in person," he concluded.  
The dragon listened attentively, but his expression was somewhat scowling.  
\- Would you need my help, Emperor? When you have already won the war? If I believe what you’re telling me, your army is already more than capable of crushing your enemies ... Why do you need me in this war? Akalash asked him, emitting a metallic squeak of annoyance but also of incomprehension, stretching out his broad wings.  
The emperor had difficulty containing his desire to pounce at his throat, because of his disrespectful tone, especially used in front of his sons. But never mind, his urgency for the moment was to retaliate with convincing arguments.   
\- To spare the lives of my brave men, Great Akalash," he argued forcefully. Moreover, it is my honor, as well as that of the entire Rakuria, that is affected by this accusation of the Rathlands. I think you are well aware of our attachment to the values of blood and honor. You are attached to the Rakuria by your act towards my father 40 years ago, by promoting the success of his rebellion. And now you have before you his son, who wishes to bring peace as soon as possible to this empire you have built, together.  
The steel-scaled dragon shook his head.  
\- In the name of honor, you say? No. It would not be fair for me to get involved in this conflict. The balance would no longer be right if I came and crushed your opponents. Your intentions seem praiseworthy to me, but I refuse.   
Rakurai was bubbling with rage.  
"How dare he deny his fatherland and the duty to help any man to avenge his honor! "he became mentally indignant.  
\- So I climbed Mount Tsereve myself in vain? So that you could tell an honest and humble man “no”, without any remorse? Rakurai scolded.  
\- If I ignored your messengers, it is because I do not think it is quite polite to send intermediaries to propose a request of this importance," the Hero replied. As for this one, I repeat, I decline it. You don't need me to win. Use your own means.  
but the Zinogre wasn’t yet done with him.  
\- For your name, Akalash. Fight for your name and the respect that we vowed to it for 40 years, he articulated, reveling in the spark that was born in the icy irises of the metallic dragon, which was about to turn its back on him.  
He held his gaze long and fiercely, then Akalash broke contact.  
\- If your people really are in trouble, then I will intervene. May Kirin bless your return, Emperor," he finally let go as he flew away, disappearing through the opening that let the light from outside through.  
Rakurai let out an angry grunt once the dragon was gone.  
\- How insolent ... he mumbled. Come on, let's go back to the palace," he then told his cubs, taking the path to the exit with the three Zinogres on his heels.  
\- Do you really think he's going to come as a reinforcement? asked Irodim, worried.  
The father sighed. He had no idea.  
\- All I know is that Akalash has a word. And I think I've awakened his fighting soul. My father once told me that he finds it difficult to contain his thirst for personal satisfaction ... Fighting for the survival of his name is something he’s really keen on, he says.  
\- Otherwise, you can do this all on your own, as he said himself," Oxiderr said.  
\- I imagine that this should be taken as an encouragement, suggested Acheron.  
The emperor did not answer, absorbed in his thoughts. Yes, indeed, he could crush the Rathiens without his help, but his reappearance would have allowed him so many things ... To restore faith to his people, to become a hero for having saved lives from the butchery of war, by the presence of one man! Akalash would have been the gateway to other projects even more ambitious than the annexation of the Rathlands under his tutelage, and Rakurai was brooding at the idea that these dreams would remain dreams for the time being, hindering his burning desire for conquest. He seemed to be able to dream for a long time to come of his perfect empire, immense and peaceful, ruled by his noble person.  
He emerged from his utopian visions when he realized that they were outside again, because of the strong luminosity that greeted them, and attacked their eyes accustomed to darkness.  
Outside, the blizzard had suddenly stopped, giving way to a cold blue sky in which the sun was shining at its zenith. In the distance, the black silhouette of Akalash could still be seen flying south.


	6. Chapter 6 (Oxiderr POV)

Two days.   
In two days, the Rakurians would attack Ignis, and undoubtedly ravage it. Striking down the air troops and massacring the ground soldiers beneath a rain of lightnings, they would only leave ashes behind them. This was obvious. The Rathlands were far too weakened to even fight back against them.  
In two days, they would sound the clarion call for revenge.  
Oxiderr yawned, stretching his jaw, and then repelted himself to enjoy the warmth of the hearth, closing his eyes.   
"We don't need a pseudo-hero to assist us. That big ninny said it himself. How arrogant, this dragon ... " thought the Howling Zinogre.  
He didn't even understand why his father had gone through so much trouble, climbing Mount Tsereve to meet him in the first place. A man, even an extremely gifted one, did not deserve all this staging. His status, far more respected than the Emperor’s one, was something the eldest of the Rakurai siblings did not recognize as legitimate. If a simple favour done to his father was enough to become superior to him in terms of title, Oxiderr would have done this long ago. But this wasn’t the case, so Akalash deserved no more respect than a general would.  
"Speaking of generals, I wonder if Asterion will still place me in the front line for the next battle... I hope there won't be this damn coward of Acheron with me anymore. He's so weak! Even Irodim, five years younger than him, is fighting better than him ! "he thought. "Mmh. Given the fact we must also take into account the Burutian reinforcements, I think the organization will be different this time. "he then realized.  
Oxiderr opened his eyes to observe the flames dancing in the main fireplace of the palace.  
"We still don't know the reasons for their sudden engagement, it's strange. As long as their interests serve ours, it's not a problem, but one can tell something fishy going on... Why on earth would the Buruto dictatorship be willing to support us? Maybe they had a disagreement with the Rathiens. That's it, I can’t think of any other reason... Even so, to send a messenger two days after Father decided to prepare this attack, it must have been quite a dispute ... Nobody knows what’s going on in Gnatos’ head, anyway. "The gray scaled Zinogre thought.  
Shaking his head, he turned to expose his back to the heat of the fireplace, closing his eyes again.  
The help of the Burutians was not superfluous, to say the least. The Rathians would certainly bring in some Foamians as backup, as always. It was surprising to see that these scums of Leviathans were still willing to help their pathetic neighbor. It seemed that war was now one of their new favorite pastimes, just like lounging in the thermal baths. According to the Howling Zinogre, the Foamians were nothing more than lazy folks only concerned with their own well-being. Their laziness even affected their competitiveness, as these lax leviathans were always behaving in a peaceful manner, refusing to open any hostility. For not a single war in all history had been launched by the Foam Kingdom. It was only content to respond weakly to enemy attacks, and sometimes to support another state. In particular, they served the Rathlands, certainly as a courtesy, Khryselios often organizing banquets to which the Foamian royal family was invited. They cared about nothing else.  
"What was their king's name again? Tidal III ? Yes, that must be it. Tidal III and the queen ... Mmh, for the queen, I can't remember. It's not as if anyone cares about the Foamians names. Even Acheron isn’t very good at it. »  
Anyway, no one bothered anymore to care about this pathetic people living in water and salt-logged lands. Invading them would bring no benefit, as the only use for these lands was to farm rice. Nothing else could be cultivated in this humid and temperate climate. The only other feasible activity was fishing. And Rakurians were neither fond of rice or fish, to say the least.  
"It makes you wonder how their economy is still going ... if one would still call it an economy,” he meditated, suddenly raising his head, having heard the sound of hurried footsteps.  
\- Irodim? Have you stolen Acheron's favorite manuscript again?" he asked with a sly smile.  
\- N-no, not the one about ores!" said the youngest, appearing in the doorway, panting. You know very well that he locked it in a chest since the last time ... No, his ... His science book, there ... The "Complete Treatise of Wyvernology" ...  
\- Do you mean the time when you were about to throw it in the lake?" Oxiderr guffawed. Oh Gods, what a memory! This coward was so terrified!  
\- Yes," replied Irodim, remembering this day. But Dad was just as furious ... ! We were deprived of meat for a week! Brr! We could only have fish, it was horrible! Do you remember?" the youngest shuddered.  
The lunar gray Zinogre nodded. Oh yes, he remembered. Replacing meat with fish was almost traumatic for any Rakurian, making some parents using this as a punishment. Because they ate more meat, Rakurians often tended to neglect fish, which was too salty for their taste. They were also put off by the smell.  
There is really nothing worse than fish ...   
I agree," the Immortal Zinogre said, "to say that Ecumians eat this all the time, with rice, on top of that!”  
The Ecumiens are as irrecoverable as their culinary tastes, Oxiderr concluded.  
He then noticed that his brother's fur was wet with melted flakes, dripping on the floor.  
Did he chase you? he asked, slightly raising his chops, in an expression that was both mocking and annoyed.  
Up to the Thunder Claw!" Irodim replied, nodding his head.  
Then come and warm yourself, you idiot! You could get hypothermia!" the elder scolded, yielding a little space.  
Thank you! the youngest thanked, settling down next to him, in front of the glowing hearth. By the window, outside, this winter day was already about to end, the sun slowly beginning to set.  
Because of their geographical position, the night was falling much faster here than in the South of Solhatar. Thus, the day lasted about ten hours in Rakuria in the summer, compared to sixteen hours in the southernmost lands. In winter, Rakurian days were limited to six hours of sunshine compared to eleven hours in the southern countries.  
“I'm going hunting”, Oxiderr suddenly let go as he got up. It will soon be dark.   
“All right," whispered the youngest, dozing on the green rug embroidered with gold.  
Before he crossed the threshold, he glanced at his sleeping brother. Then, without a word, he let out a faint sigh before disappearing.

**********************************

Smelling the icy air briefly, the Howling Zinogre left the palace grounds, and then made its way towards the forest at a brisk pace. Around him stood impressive coniferous trees covered with powder snow, and he was himself progressing in a thick, immaculate layer of white, throwing snow in his path. The Thunder Claw flowed nearby, and the muffled roar of its waterfalls could be heard from here. He used his sense of smell while running and branched off to the east. Darkness was beginning to fall on the taiga like an opaque veil, limiting his view, but also his prey’s one, which he was beginning to distinguish thanks to his nose. As he got deeper into the taiga, he stopped running and began to walk more stealthily. Then, concentrating again on his olfactory capacities, he tried to isolate the smell of a prey among the crowd of information he was receiving.  
"What do we have here ... a few Antekas ... and two Popos ..."  
He turned his nose towards the aroma that seemed most appealing to him.  
“Two Popos ... Only twenty meters away.”   
Lowering himself to the level of the rare tall grass, he silently moved in the direction suggested by his nose. Oxiderr then noticed after about ten meters a bush of a rather large size, and hid himself there. Once out of sight of his prey, which was nearby, he visually searched for it in the dark.

In front of him and the bush, a clearing was stretching out. Two adult Popos, two young males that might got lost from their herd, were grazing in the thick layer of snow, scraping the ground with their hooves, looking for grass. Scanning the area, the lunar gray Zinogre tried to spot possible hunters other than himself.   
Everything was calm, and the two hairy mammals had not yet felt his presence.  
"I have to charge discreetly, and then lightning strike them all at once," he thought.  
The Zinogres were particular monsters, because their power relative to electricity required a charge to be fully exploited. This charge was obtained by bringing together many small insects that naturally generate electricity, similar to fireflies. These "fulgurinsects," as they were called, were magnetically attracted to Zinogres’ dorsal spiky hairs. All of them were using the same insects to charge up, except the Stygian Zinogres, which required “dracophagous” insects to reveal their abilities.  
Slowly, Oxiderr contracted the muscles of his back, triggering the sharp pointed hairs. Then, by emitting the most inaudible rumble possible, he called upon the fulgurinsects present around him. As if by magic, about fifty fireflies slowly gathered along his spine, in an almost perfect silence.   
"... Now!”  
Letting out a fierce roar that shook the ground below, Oxiderr suddenly released all the stored electrical energy in a brief blinding flash. The next instant, the two Popos’ bodies were laying on the ground, charred and sizzling.  
"Here’s a job well done. It seems my precision is improving."He congratulated himself.  
The Howling Zinogre left his hiding place to approach the two blackened corpses. If he had indeed aimed right, he seemed to have misjudged the force of its electric discharge.  
\- Mh. A little too much power perhaps? he said aloud, examining his prey with a claw.  
\- As usual, a weary voice grumbled somewhere between the pines.  
The eldest son of Rakurai II turned his head towards his owner.  
“Asterion! Which duty led you here, old man?" he smiled as he discovered a familiar face, teasing him.  
“I'm not that old, hatchling !" the newcomer answered in a snarl as he emerged from the thickets.  
He shook his head.  
The reason of my presence is none of your concern. You shouldn't be hanging around here at this time of night. We’re leaving for Ignis in two days. It would be better for you to die on the battlefield than from pneumonia, if you know what I mean..." the Rajang muttered between his fangs.  
The gray-tinted wolf had a grin.  
As pleasant and cynical as ever, my goodness! But don't worry about me, my friend, for I was only coming to hunt before nightfall," he replied, charging the two dead Popos on his broad back. I'm not one of those cowards who declare themselves as indisposed to escape duty, Asterion! But come to think of it, where did you assign me for the assault? Still in the front line?  
The jet-black beast with fangs shrugged his shoulders.  
If it ain't broke, don't fix it ... I only moved Acheron to the back in the third line, since we have much more firepower with the Burutians backups. Irodim will be at your side, just like your father," Asterion replied.  
"That's fine. This battle might be interesting, without this damn Acheron in my midst," Oxiderr mused.  
Always the same tactic, isn't it? Oxiderr asked.  
The general nodded slowly.

As I said, as long as it keeps working, I see no reason to change. I must also say our Burutian guests do like this formation a lot...   
Of course they do, it’s pure genius ! The main course at the beginning, then the small fry behind, in order to saturate the enemy, then finish them off! The icing on the cake ! the Howling Zinogre rejoices. And if our own soldiers weaken, the next rows are still left, utterly capable of annihilating the Rathlands' gnawed-up forces! I must admit that I like this strategy. It has the merit of being fair and simple, and yet efficient; everything I appreciate, in a way.  
The Rathiens still can't manage to counter this technique, even after ten years of fighting. Either they are incredibly stupid, or this one is just perfect and invincible," Asterion reasoned . And although the first option seems credible to me, I think the second is way more obvious ...  
He shook his head again.  
Either way, victory is at hand. Our elemental cover and our numbers give us a great advantage, and although it kind of pains me to admit, you, your father, and young Irodim are of great help. Even Acheron does honest work on the field," the general grumbled.   
A compliment! By Oroshi, the sky might fall on our heads! the eldest of the Rakurian brotherhood cried, delighted. Indeed, Khryselios is foolish not to let his prodigal children enlist, like us," he nodded afterwards. Father already mentioned to me, once at dinner, that he had heard from his spies that the performances of the youngest one would be quite fabulous ... Imagine, General, that this runt seems capable of setting himself on fire, as their god Teostra would do, according to their sacred book ! And this stupid king would refuse to exploit this divine gift! Who knows if others in this brotherhood are just as talented as he is! What a shame, what a disgrace for a sovereign to privilege his offspring in this way, by his own selfishness! But their misfortune is our joy, and we can't really complain about it... But here is why the Rathlands are sinking into ruin, in my opinion : they are governed by an old, incapable nepotist who doesn't care about them. I would have almost felt sorry for them if rebels of their race had not cut the throat of this princess who was our booty ... When I think about it ! Despair really pushes people to commit senseless things ...   
The way you talk makes me I remember that day when your father arrived at my house to propose his plan for a regicide ... sighed the old Rajang, doing an about-face. "Asterion, the hour is grave, a tyrant governs our people, and this people is silenced! A state must be governed by its people, not by a self-centered demagogue! What a tirade, I would remember it for the rest of my life ... Anyway, it is getting late," he said as he looked up at the bright moon, "and you should go home, I repeat, young man.”  
I'm going now," Oxiderr replied, smiling. May Kirin guard you, my friend!   
Asterion glanced over his shoulder at the moon-colored wolf, then nodded his head and disappeared into the night. The Howling Zinogre turned around and rushed through the dark taiga at high speed.  
"Two days. Only two more days ..." Oxiderr thought as he galloped back to the palace.


	7. Chapter 7 (Tidal POV)

Plunging his alabaster head back into the warm water, King Tidal III let out a long sigh of well-being, small waves of the basin gently soothing his ivory scales. Turning on his back edged with deep blue spikes, he spat out a fountain-like spray of water.  
"How sweet it is to relax and not care about anything ..." he thought with delight, letting himself float.  
The sun, bright and warm, was at its zenith. The daytime star mercilessly darted its powerful rays over the entire Foam Kingdom, land of sea, swamps, and rice fields, causing a damp and heavy climate. As usual, the Foamians exercised their daily nap in a place where were water and warmth. Like rice, they were meant to be immersed in temperate water, full-exposed to the sun. The temperature of the water had to reach 25 to 30°C for the leviathans to come and sleep. This restorative nap seemed to be their only source of vital energy, and they were perfectly content with it. Just like tropical plants, they vegetated during the hottest hours of the day. Some rare toddlers preferred to frolic in rice fields, hot spring pools, or the ocean rather than resting there. However, they were only a minority of the population, as this obligatory rest was sacred.   
It was a custom that had become law: they would take a nap from noon to three o'clock, period. In other words, one had a relatively early and light lunch, so that one could take full advantage of the sun's rays afterwards.  
The Foamian king returned to a prone position, then raised the tip of his scaly nose and back from the water like a crocodile.  
"What if I went to the terms, then? Maybe Laerob will be there, so we could talk ... Mmmh ... But what could we talk about ? ... I don't know ... I'll decide about the subject later ... In an hour maybe ... Or two ... ? I don't knooooow..." Tidal thought softly.  
Slightly opening his closed eyes, he was assaulted by the blinding and aggressive sunlight that attacked his retinas.  
“Aaaaaaoouuch …” he scolded, closing them immediately, in a slow reflex.  
He then felt a bubble come to life and burst on his snout.  
“Irisée ... ?” he pronounced in his sleepy voice, raising his head slightly, and braving once again the bright light to open his eyes.  
“Yes?” the graceful Mizutsune answered, sliding into the basin in which he had been drowsing for some time, spreading soapy foam on the ground.  
The Mizutsunes were a breed of leviathans of great agility and remarkable grace. Indeed, they were able to naturally secrete a soapy, foam-like fluid that could be transformed into bubbles. But more generally, this liquid was used to help them move more fluidly, in particular by letting their serpentine bodies with purple fur slide over them. In this way, they developed increased speed and steering precision. These displacements were so aesthetic and appreciated for their elegance that, during the rare animated festivals of the Ecumian king, where he received Khryselios and Chryselene, some Mizutsunes of the kingdom agreed to present a dance in the moonlight simply magical. While the leviathan dancers moved in a rhythmic way, snaking and leaping, lit by the ardent undulating glow of the braziers, the bubbles they produced rose gently in the night skies, mixing with the Thunderbugs. The marriage of these two flying elements gave the scene a truly mystical and fabulous cachet. Often, this ritual was accompanied by a few panpipes or bamboo xylophone players. Alas, this did not happen often.  
“Why ... Are you just arriving now?” the Ivory Lagiacrus yawned.  
“ I was making final preparations for tomorrow ... You know, the departure of our soldiers to support our friend Khryselios …” Irisée explained gently.  
”Departure? Soldieeerss ? What are you talking about?" Tidal articulated with difficulty, his jaws numb.  
The queen looked embarrassed, and nervously fiddled with her claws.  
“Hm ... The ... Ignis' defense, Tomorrow ... Remember?”  
It took some time for the information to be picked up by the Foamian king.  
“Ooh. I forgot ... he said dreamily. Thank you for... taking care of that.”  
“You're welcome,” Irisée said, letting herself flow like her companion in the spring water.  
“You shouldn't work so hard …” Tidal added.  
“I was worried," the Mizutsune apologized.  
“There was no reason to …”  
He seemed to remember something.  
“Opal ... Does she still wanna go?” the Ivory Lagiacrus asked, letting the water cover his back again.  
Irisée shook affirmatively her head in anguish, and the water from the spring was suddenly flooded with pinkish moss.  
“This isn’t normal ... How can it be so dynamic, so impetuous ... So stubborn! We raised her with all the love we had, and yet she is like that ... I often wonder what went wrong with her... “  
The white crocodile shrugged his shoulders and leaned his head to the side.  
“I hardly know. But it’s true that this fighting spirit does not come from us. I wonder from whom she got it ... Why is she so eager to defend our friend Khryselios? Sure, he is an excellent host, but that's probably not why she wants to support him, isn’t it ? I can't think of any other reason why she would do this ... “he confessed, tired.  
“I hope it's only a phase ... and that she will make a perfect Foamian... Once she finds her reason …” the queen whispered.  
“Otherwise we won't be able to marry her," the king nodded pensively.  
Irisée was seized with horror by these words, and shivered.  
“Do not speak of misfortune!”  
Tidal shook his head, sighing at length.  
“Don't be so stressed about that, enjoy the moment ... Look at the sun! You'd have to be a fool not to enjoy it, wouldn't you?” he advised her, giving her a gentle glance.  
“Yes ... You're right, I'm certainly too worried ..." the Mizutsune blushed, who distractedly had fun blowing some of her bubbles with one of her upper and curved claws.  
"She may have a point ... What if Opal doesn't want to change? Mmh, no, she'll get bored... Why defend so vehemently her... Personality? It's useless ..." thought the king as he watched Irisée pop her bubbles.  
He shook his head again. He then decided that he was torturing his mind too much at that moment, and returned to the realm of dreams.

******************************************

King Tidal III was again noding off, while a hundred and third Foamian came, like all the others, to complain in front of him of the pains of daily toil in the rice fields, and demand a shorter week's work. The Gobul in front of him had already been talking for a quarter of an hour, and the sovereign seemed to be already tired of it. His claw was leaning against his increasingly heavy chin, and his eyelids seemed to be gifted with their own will, so much that they refused to remain open.   
That's why he and his family had been running the Kingdom of Ecume for three generations: No other Foamian had come forward to take over. One hundred and twenty-five years earlier, the Democratic Republic of Foam had been proclaimed to bring to an end the long period of pacifist anarchy that had governed the Foamian Lands. The "government" of the time had then launched a call for candidacies for the first elections. It was a total fiasco. Only Tidal, the first of his name, great-grandfather of the present king, proposed his candidacy, without much scope or will. But how could one claim to hold a democratic republic if the citizens hadn’t even choice between several candidates? Nevertheless, the name "Republic" was kept, because there was no longer any desire to return to the old system, but what was bound to happen happened again when new elections were held five years after Tidal's nomination, there was no other candidate for power than him.  
He thus remained President of the Republic for forty years. At the end of his eighth term, for lack of proposals, he bequeathed his role to his son.  
As the Republic could no longer exist due to the more or less forced investiture of Tidal I's son, the Foamian Lands became a monarchy. No one contested the transfer of power to the one who called himself Tidal II, and he lived his sixty-year reign without a hitch. Then he also appealed to his son, like his father. Tidal III took over. And now, it’s already been twenty-five years since Tidal third of the name was sacred king on the Foamian Kindgom, still without claiming any power. It was necessary to face the facts: no Foamian had enough motivation to govern. They were all far too lazy. The king himself was no exception to the rule. And it was for this peculiar reason that these long sessions of audience harassed him to the highest degree.  
Slowly, his chin slipped out of the grip of his palm, and he was taken by surprise when it suddenly pulled him down. His interlocutor was so slow-minded that he hardly noticed the evidence of his sovereign's inattention.  
“... And as I said earlier, there is no need to feed the fishes between 6 and 7 pm, as they are usually not hungry after the lunch ration ... Moreover, this cannot be made up for by cleaning the ponds, the work of the fish ponds being carried out in the morning around 10 am, in order to not sweat too much because of the sun ... This 6-7 pm slot is useless, because nothing can be done ... It’s therefore a break which must be made official, isn't it ? concludes the Gobul who was finally finishing his tirade.  
Tidal resumed.  
“Y-yes, absolutely, Mr. Lantern, I agree to study this problem for a possible reform ... “ the Ecumian King recited mechanically, trying to look persuasive.  
“Thank you, King Tidal,” bowed the subject, before disappearing.  
The Ivory Lagiacrus gave an umpteenth sigh of boredom.  
“How many are left, Irisée?" he asked, glancing behind his throne, or stood Irisée, also sitting on her royal chair, backwards.  
“Twenty-nine. Twelve requests for a general reduction of working hours, ten complaints about an invasion of bamboo, four requests for funding, and three requests for information about the construction of dams on the north side of the Salted Plains, the queen informed by reading her parchment of rice paper.  
The leviathan with milky scales looked up to the sky.  
“The afternoon promises to be long ... To think I wanted to go to the thermal baths!” he protested in frustration.  
The Mizutsune had an outraged look on her face, which she immediately repressed.  
“You ... It's only 4:00 pm, you can always go around 7:00 pm ...“she suggested gently.  
Tidal III seemed to make a whim.  
“At seven o'clock? But I’ll be late for bedtime, then! I don't want to be tired ... I’ll find it even harder to pick up words when these people talk to me …”he said with a very annoyed look.  
Irisée nervously wagged her tail as a sign of internal boiling, but no sound came out of her mouth.  
“ Well, never mind," capitulated Tidal, "I'll allow myself to sleep in tomorrow morning. I have the right, don't I? I have done honest work, so I have the right to rest ... I have to work almost all day, while they only work three and a half hours a day ... It would be unfair otherwise! Isn't it Irisée ?” he reasoned then, his eyes shining.  
“All work deserves pay …” answered the queen timidly, who noted that she had spread a lot of moss on the ground because of her nervousness.  
“So I am right, then! It is prodigious, I carry out correct reasoning, what a scholar I make!” he exclaimed, joyful.  
Irisée kept silent, but turned pale and blushed many times.  
“Well, let the next one in, while I still have motivation," accepted the Foamian king.  
‘The number one hundred and four please! announced the Mizutsune who had to force herself on her thin voice to be heard.  
“I'm coming ... One moment ... said a clumsy Ludroth Royal who held between his fangs a ticket annotated with the said number, and who slowly but surely advanced towards the throne. “Good morning, my king.”  
“Greetings, sir ... “began the Ivory Lagiacrus.

"Oh boy, what's his name again? Oh no, I think I forgot! "he panicked mentally.  
\- Mr. Sponge, Irisée whispered to him, as discreetly as possible.

“Mr. Sponge! Um, may I know the purpose of your request?" Tidal inquired, whose jaws felt to get tired of saying the same words over and over again.  
He then mimed an attentive air to suggest to the Ludroth Royal to explain himself.  
“Well, I came to share with you my concern about the delay of the work, you know, for the construction of dams on the northern coast of theSalted Plains, which should serve to increase the cultivable surface ... It's already seven months since the construction site is supposed to have started, but no worker or traces of activity are on the site, is this normal? he asked.  
The white leviathan with sapphire peaks had a slightly frown pout.  
“Hum ... It is true that this project has been delayed, but we are waiting for the agreement of the company that will manage the construction of these dams ... In addition, it will also be necessary to determine which material will best resist the ocean ... It may take a long time ... I hope to have your understanding," he answered.  
“Oh, so it's still relevant ... Thank you for reassuring me on this subject, my king, “ the leviathan thanked. “I thought it would have been abandoned ... Thank you very much.”   
“I’m the one thanking you, Mr. Sponge. I wish you a pleasant end of the day, and may Ceadeus keep you," said Tidal, tilting his head slightly, while the other withdrew.  
Irisée retrieved ticket n°104 and put it in a small wicker basket which contained other similar tickets.  
“Number one hundred and five!” she proclaimed in the direction of the large door made of braided mangrove wood, where the others were waiting behind.  
There was no reaction.  
“Number one hundred and five ?” the Mizutsune asked again, raising an eyebrow.  
Still no answer. Tidal suddenly seemed interested in the silence.  
"One less ! At least that’s something !" he thought with satisfaction.  
“Well, a withdrawal ... Number one hundred and six?”  
An ordinary colored Lagiacrus shyly entered.  
“It might be me?" he said in a weak voice.  
“Please come to the throne and make your request," the queen kindly informed him.  
The Lagiacrus complied, and greeted the king.  
“H-hello my king," began the leviathan curled up on itself, hesitating, "This ... It would be to ask you ... When do you intend to start a cutting operation? For ... The bamboos? In this season they are multiplying at one crazy speed ... It's very annoying, you know, and the fields are almost all affected by this scourge ... That's my question ... “  
This time the king had a more affable expression.  
“This is our priority for the moment! he announced proudly. “To tell the truth, we've already started pulling up some near the banks of the Wett River. It is thus only a question of time before the volunteers for this work reach Furosu,” he explained to him.  
His subject seemed delighted with this answer.  
“Okay, Lord Tidal, thank you for this clarification, I needed it very much. May Ceadeus keep you!" the young leviathan wished to him before leaving the room, after handing over his ticket to Irisée.  
“It is myself who thanks you. I wish you a good end of the day, and may Ceadeus keep you too," Tidal repeated.  
"And may Ceadeus keep me awake for the moment, otherwise I'll faint ..." he thought as he yawned again.  
“Number one hundred and seven!” called Irisée.  
Without a word, the door opened, and a Tidal Najarala entered.  
“Laerob, my friend!” exclaimed Tidal, delighted.  
“Good evening, my king," the blue snake wyvern said as he came forward. “Good evening, my queen," he said, lowering his scarred skull slightly.  
“ How are you?" said the Ivory Lagiacrus.  
“Pretty good, thank you. I came to tell you that ... “he began, before deciding to get closer to the royal couple. “We have found gold again in one of our rivers, sir …”  
“That's fantastic !" nodded Tidal. “Where is it this time?”  
Laerob began to whisper.  
“In the King's Tear” he informed him.  
”Oooh, so this gold would belong to Khryselios?” the salt-colored leviathan realized, disappointed.  
“Technically yes, my lord, but it turns out that the Rathiens are hardly aware of the existence of this gold ... If you see my point.”  
The king thought a little while with one claw on his chin.  
"It's not my gold, so I must not take it... Stealing is wrong. And I don't want to steal Khryselios, do I? But I could pay the workers for the dams, with this gold, at the same time ... Luckily, I called on charity to cut the bamboos, otherwise I would be in so much debts ... Why don't they want to grow elsewhere, these bamboos? Or even cut themselves? Oooh, what a complicated choice! "he complained inside.  
“No, this money must go to Khryselios. Not to us.”  
Irisée intervened.  
“If I may say so, Tidal, we can legally take thirty percent of this find to reimburse our research, Khryselios will have no say in the matter …” she proposed.  
The white Lagiacrus shook its head again.  
“Our friend Khryselios is in trouble, we owe it to ourselves to help him, he who receives us so well !” he defended himself, annoyed. “We will only take fifteen percent of what we find.”  
Laerob and Irisée seemed to sigh in unison.  
“As you wish, my king, just keep in mind you can always reverse your decision," the Tidal Najarala said. “On that note, I will wait for you at the baths after your audiences are over. Greetings.”  
And he left.

*************************************************

“What a joy to relax at the thermal baths! What do you say about that, Irisée?” asked Tidal, who had stretched out all along the mosaic next to the hot bath, breathing the steam as it was incense with therapeutic virtues.  
“It's ... Very relaxing, indeed”she smiled, also lying on the edge of the basin.  
“Simply divine," agreed Laerob, who had opted for a warm bath, but leaned on the edge separating the warm and cold bath to discuss.  
“By the way, Laerob, did you receive the information I sent you about the departure of the reinforcements to Ignis?" asked the Mizutsune.  
The Tidal Najarala opened his eyes.  
“Yes, the troops left in the afternoon, and I gave them all the recommendations they needed. I hope nothing bad will happen to them ... Especially for Opal, I mean," he said, turning his head to the queen.  
“Me too," admitted the anxious queen.  
“Do not worry, dear ... “ the king soothed her.  
“And why is that? I have the right to worry all the same ..." the queen said, offended.  
“Because you're going to lather up the whole bath, if you continue to stress so much," he replied, pointing to the tide of soapy fluid flowing in the hot bath with his claw.  
The Mizutsune faded with embarrassment.  
“Oh dear! Well, I'll have to help the staff clean up this mess ... “she sighed.  
Laerob spoke again after an embarrassed silence.  
“According to what is being said at the border, the Rathiens are in a very poor position ... I hope that with our support, we can change the situation. If the Rathlands fall into Rakurai II’s hands, we will be in great danger ... For the moment, apart from Khryselios, nobody is informed about our ... Secret resources, but if it ever reaches the Rakurian ears ... They might reconsider their idea of our country, only good for growing rice and raising fishes ... I sincerely doubt that we will be able to fight.”  
“It's not serious," replied Tidal, "we woud take refuge in the ocean. Everyone can live in the ocean, can't they? In the worst case, we'll still have the Mogas’ Island, the Rakurians won't come and cause us any trouble there ...  
Irisée contested her revolted surprise, remembering that she had already caused enough damage with her foam.  
“It remains an option, sir, but it would be very difficult for us to survive like this, deprived of our territorial wealth ... Reconstruction will certainly be difficult and ... “the blue snake wyvern replicated .  
“We will see when the time comes, General. For the moment, let us be happy about the present moment. And this present moment, I enjoy it with all my might, concluded the king by sliding into the basin of hot water. Are you coming? The temperature is perfect!" he intimated.  
The general and the queen looked at each other hesitantly.  
“We won't change him”, declared Irisée who plunged in her turn into the water.  
“Yes, not anytime soon” nodded sadly Laerob's head, who followed her.


	8. Chapter 8 (Astalian POV)

“Tomorrow ... “  
As the shimmering flames of the campfire bathed her with their warmth, Astalian pondered with apprehension about the day ahead. Thoughtfully sharpening her blade, she watched the wisps of smoke rise gracefully into the night sky, like messages of hope and confidence that she would have liked to send to each of the sleepy Rathlands residents to reassure them. Forsaking the flames with her eyes, she met the gaze of a Rathalos in front of her, whom she greeted with her exhaustion concealed.  
She herself doubted about this battle, and it bothered her, because she did not want to appear cowardly under any circumstances. Although she had recently joined the Rathian army and then the Royal Guard, she had dealt with such situations before, especially during the first five years of the war. The Astalos no longer had to prove her worth, but rather to maintain her image as a brave and fearless spy, for a simple reason.  
"If I bend, then they’ll all do so. The burden is lighter to bear with Tinarg by my side, but ... It’s also my duty to have the confidence of a leader. I must not worry so much or I'll start to doubt ... And this must never happen ... Others would feel it ..." she sighed inwardly, as the few soldiers still standing at this late hour of the night like this Rathalos seemed to already feel her anguish, looking at her with confidence and compassion. Faced with the pure blue eyes of the male Rath, she hardened her features so that only a fierce determination could be seen from the outside.  
He slowly deviated his gaze. It was not a confrontation. He passed a silent message to the dragonfly wyvern. The crest on Astalian's forehead emitted a gentle shivering sound: she had understood. The soldier lowered his head slightly in a respectful salute, then disappeared into the night, probably to rejoin his tent.  
A heavy and steady step made the ground shudder, but the woman-general was not worried about it, and thoughtfully continued to put her worried face into the silvery reflection of her sword after having passed it over the sharpener a hundred times.  
“You get some sleep, Astalian," the second Rathien general pronounced in a firm but fatherly tone, and she felt his breath close behind her back.  
“I'm not sleepy, Tinarg," she sighed, closing her eyes, putting her weapon and the sharpener next to her. I know it's silly to stand like this and stare at the fire, and I'd better try to lie down to sleep, but ... I won't get anywhere until my thoughts are studied," she added, briefly raising her garnet-colored plums towards him, and then placing them on the sharpener with its glowing reflections.  
“Go and rest,” insisted the Gravios more gently, placing its wing on the sharpener that Astalian was trying to take again.  
“Tinarg ... she articulated. I still need to think. I won't linger here, okay?”  
The dragon with the stone armor pulled out his wing and shook his head slightly.  
“Astalian ... I won't repeat myself," he said again in his rocky voice with more willpower.  
The elytra wings of this one rose gently, and one of its knees bent so that it could rise again. Raising her head, which had been staring at the ground for a while, she crossed her teammate's gaze in battle planning.  
“Thank you," she let go. “May the astral lions be with us tomorrow," she said afterwards with renewed confidence.  
“I hope so too,” Tinarg nodded as she watched her return to their common tent.

As she gradually moved away from the heat of the fire and the robust Gravios, she felt the urge to raise her head towards the many stars that constellated the celestial vault that evening. So many small prisms with a faint glow, but united by their number reminded her of so many soldiers, conscious of their destiny, and ready to do anything to defend the people. It was naive and utopian, but it was also beautiful to know that many still believed they were living a heroic life by engaging in this quagmire, the truth being more gory and miserable. This common faith led the Rathien troops, and gave them their strength. If they lost it, they would be nothing. This power, though blind, had to be carefully nurtured for hope to be strong and ferocious. And that this hope would enable them to defeat the Rakurians.  
Pushing back the canvas section closing the access to the generals' tent, the Astalos noticed on their small improvised desk the large parchment on which was written the indications of the plan to be adopted. She already knew it by heart, having studied and learned it for days, but she let her eyes and claws slide over the candle-lit diagrams she and Tinarg had made.  
"My role will be crucial. Played to perfection, it will give us a huge chance of victory. And with Blast, Zenith and Arsenic on the front line with us, the surprise effect can only be confusing for the Rakurians. We know them and how they react. Ten years of continuous confrontation have taught us that ... "   
She then abandoned the defensive plan to lie down on her layer of flax straw, slowly closing her eyes which had become painful due to the nascent fatigue in the emerald wyvern.  
"We will win, comrades. "she thought as she reopened her eyes, her certainty regained.  
"I swear !»

******************************************

“Take your places, comrades!" Tinarg roared to be heard, placed in front of the crowd of soldiers who were finishing their preparations.  
The soldiers, having heard the call, dispersed to the place they had been assigned the day before, and all stopped talking to let the generals give their instructions.  
“Let the first line advance!" Astalian cried, herself near the Gravios, to enforce the organization.  
Quickly, the officers and lieutenants detached themselves to form a perfect line. In the center, next to the two vacant spaces intended for the generals, stood the Rathien heirs taking part in the battle, namely Arsenic, Blast and Zenith, all very well equipped. The pieces of armor forged by Knart were obviously of recognized quality, and these were no exception to the rule: each of a different color, their brilliance even surpassed that of Astalian's armor. This was logical, however, because theirs had not yet been used, unlike that of the general. The blacksmith Agnaktor had been equally clever, because despite their originality, the decorative work done on these armors was not exaggerated: their belonging to the royal family would not be obvious to the Rakurians, and thus, they could pass themselves off as a few wealthy lieutenants.

She then met their gaze, which she supported with pride. Under their helmets devoid of visors, the Astalos felt them ready to fight. She then thought to be appropriate to thank them all for their participation, as surprising as it was welcome.  
“My Lords Princes Blast and Zenith, Princess Arsenic, I wanted to thank you solemnly for your commitment, on behalf of our people," she said, bowing. “The honour and bravery you are demonstrating today is an example that will long be remembered.”  
Tinarg decided to take over:  
“It is good to see that the Rathlands always carry young minds capable of feeling patriotic duty and serving it with pride," he added to the wyverne dragonfly's words, nodding imperceptibly.  
Prince Zenith replied first:  
“The only obstacle that prevented me from beginning to serve my people earlier was the weakness of my youth, General Astalian. I am already guilty of having waited so long. As Prince of the Rathlands, it is my duty to get personally involved in this war," he said, with a slight smirk on his face.  
Tinarg was delighted to hear those words.  
“... We are only performing our most modest and normal duty, General Tinarg," Arsenic continued. “We would be cowards to shirk it in the name of our filiation.”  
Blast, for his part, remained silent, but he supported the words of his brother and sister by nodding his head frankly.  
It was Astalian's turn to make a delighted pout.  
“Good,” concluded the Astalos. “Now," she resumed, redirecting her eyes to the rest of the waiting soldiers, "we will resume the setting up of the ranks, after which we will leave to meet the Rakurian troops.”  
Tinarg turned to her.  
“Can you make the aerial check?” he asked.  
The wyvern dragonfly nodded her head in a sign of assent, and then promptly rose into the air, so that she could monitor the proper execution of the directives the white stone dragon was about to give. She briefly looked for an updraft so that she could hover in a stationary situation and get a better view, something no other Rathien was able to do. From up there, she could see the entire Rathien army, waiting to move toward the point of confrontation, two kilometers from Ignis's enclosure wall. 

"There are three thousand of them. Three thousand Rathiens to face one thousand Rakurians. It is sufficient, to put it like that, especially to repel them, but what we forget is that Rakurai, by having a thousand men, only takes ten percent of its available manpower ... Whereas our three thousand soldiers are all that we have left. Each loss will be tragic. And adding the fact that they have a basic advantage... It's going to be a very close battle. »  
As the lines moved in place, she remembered the plan once again.  
"Since we have to push them back, it's best to adopt a "bowl" or "shovel" formation. This will contain the enemy, and will prevent them from going around us, and attacking Ignis directly. As if to stop the waves of a tumultuous torrent. It has been used many times during these ten years ... This technique has proved its worth. With my role of diversion and cover, they will not be able to focus on anyone else than me. We could have used the river of Thunder Claw to our advantage, but the preparations due to the restart of the war effort were too long, Rakurai and his men would have crossed it long before we could block them. »

Making a positive sign to the other general Rathien who asked her in signed language if everything was correct from the sky, she refocused on the modalities of her role, giving a few wing beats to correct her position in relation to the wind.  
"I am the only one capable of undergoing lightning without blinking. If I capture Rakurians’ attention, they will try to focus on me. They know me for the most part and know that I am the main counter against their electricity, fatal for the rest of the army, except for the Gravios who can endure some lightning of average power. If they shoot me down, they win. This is both true and false. If I can't divert any more, the lightning will rain down and no one will be able to handle it. But there will still be the whole army left ... Plus the heirs who will make a nice surprise, normally. "she thought.  
After another half hour of setting up, the army was able to start moving towards the point of interception. As they advanced in the coolness of the dawn, Astalian, from his position in the front line, was able to admire the sunrise, the warm and luminous star with which Teostra was associated, while the moon, relative to Lunastra, disappeared from sight.   
“Teostra watches over us," said Zenith, his eyes shining. “There are no clouds in the sky, it’s a good omen.”  
Tinarg nodded.  
“Justice will be done by the astral lions, he said gravely. Let's not forget that an outrage has been uttered against the Rathlands: the assassination of Lady Tourmaline. Such an act will not go unpunished.”  
Astalian, for her part, didn’t go any further. She was a believer, like the vast majority of Rathiens (and gladly she was, given the fate reserved for the ungodly, who were often chased away and forced to find refuge in the Brotherhood of Scavengers), but she had long since ceased to believe in divine justice. The culprit must have been taking it easy somewhere in Solhatar by now. Without clues or traces, it was impossible to identify and track him. On both sides, the search for the killer had been abandoned.  
"It's a really strange case. The hypothesis accusing a Rakurian is certainly very probable, but also terribly obvious to suspect ... There's something fishy going on, that's for sure, but no way to justify it ... A hunch is not enough. We will probably never know if it was indeed a Rakurian plot or an ambush of the Anti-Rakurian Rathiens. I hope so much to be wrong ... " 

Everyone, Rathians and Rakurians alike, had sought to know the truth. But when even the professionals threw in the towel, each side was forced to accuse its neighbor of this crime against peace. It had to be one of the two, since the other nations were either allied with one of the two opponents, or completely disinterested in the conflict that had been opposing them for ten years, or even rather satisfied to be able to sell raw materials to the Rathlands Kingdom at a high price. This drastic inflation was also a major brake on the Rathians. Armor became very expensive to manufacture, due to the lack of imported iron, and the pace of agricultural production was more laborious to maintain. With the material losses caused by the situation close to a battlefield, many farms were drowning in debt and were inexorably going bankrupt.  
It did not take much time for the Rathien army to cover the two kilometers and see the front lines of Rakurian troops advancing in the opposite direction, raising an intimidating cloud of dust. When everyone was able to discern the face of their opponent, the two armies stopped. On either side, the soldiers stretched themselves out with fierce determination, staring angrily at the enemy warriors facing them.

Astalian quickly swept the first three lines of the northern army with her sharp, piercing eyes. As usual, they adopted a simple but powerful formation based on the brute force of the first five lines of battle. Rakurai II and his sons remained at the center of the line, while the two generals, a particularly tough Barioth and an angry Rajang, stood at either end of the line. However, one of the three Rakurian heirs was absent from the front row. This was the Stygian Zinogre. After a brief search, Astalian spotted him in the third row.  
"This is something to watch out for. It's suspicious, this change of place..." she thought.  
Something else jumped out at the Astalos: the other individuals present in the first and second lines were unfamiliar to her. Their morphology, powerful and heavy, was never seen before. She was able to recognize a few species, such as Uragaans or Agnaktors, but this was only because the Kingdom counted or had counted subjects belonging to these species, and the only Agnaktors she knew about were Knart, and the icy subspecies living within the Rakurai Empire. Here, however, those Agnaktors were indeed covered with hardened lava, and there was no doubt that they could not have been of Rakurian origin.  
"Who are they?”   
The general turned a questioning eye to Tinarg, who had also grasped the problem posed by these unknown mercenaries.  
“Who are these soldiers?” she asked discreetly.  
Without moving, the Gravios answered her in a breath.  
“Burutians. Rakurai received reinforcements from the Buruto Dictatorship. It's as strange as it is worrisome, we must be very vigilant with regard to them.”  
Feeling stupid and ignorant of not knowing the reason for increased vigilance, the Astalos asked him the question so as not to remain in denial. He had much more experience than she did, and he must have faced these Burutians before.  
Why then?  
The stone dragon lowered his gaze slightly towards her.  
“Most of them can't fly, but they have a devastating charge force. Among these reinforcements, I discerned Diablos and Uragaans. These two species can cause us a lot of trouble for the same reasons. Moreover, they do not fear our flames, and easily endure electricity …”  
Astalian imperceptibly nodded his head. She understood better the tension born in the jaw of the Gravios. The dragonfly wyvern, resuming her meticulous but short observation, then felt the blood beating at her temples. But from where she stood, the Astalos also felt the heartbeat in unison of the three thousand Rathiens and the increasing tension in the air. On her back, the copper armor she was wearing suddenly seemed heavy and unpleasant. It also seemed to her that her sword, held with force by her pincers, was already sticky with sweat. Astalian was familiar with this feeling, often experienced by novices or apprentices. Despite her growing experience, this stress was always present every time the assault was about to begin. Her very combat instructor, whom she had frequented before joining the Rathlands’ army, had reassured her on this point, however : it was not uncommon for a veteran to still feel the pre-charge thrill after decades of regular combat.   
"It's a pretty good sign to know you're still in danger in this kind of situation, isn't it? The day when you no longer fear for your life, you'll be an unconscious person, not a hero. A hero, on the other hand, still possesses his rational sense, the nuance is that he accepts the stake of his life, while being conscious of its value. A hero is not reckless. He is thoughtful. "he said.  
She liked him, her first teacher. He had taught her a lot about the different ways of fighting, of adapting to the enemy. But it had been five years since she had heard from him. It was him, among others, who had given her a taste for the sword fights ! As he shared a similar physiognomy, he had shared with her all the tips and tricks he used. Hovering, swooping, swooping down, swooping up, she owed him all of this. His way of analyzing and confronting things reminded her of the Skypiercers' way of doing things, but she never knew where he came from, because they always met up to train in the Peace Hills. At that time, the whole of this massif still belonged to the Rathlands, and one could walk there without risk. Five years later, the Burutia, which had become a dictatorship, claimed these lands, and Khryselios did not succeed in using diplomacy. By referendum, it was decided not to intervene physically. In such circumstances, the king preferred to ask the opinion of his subjects, to avoid reprisals from non-consenting people. It was a wise choice, because when the armistice against the Rakurai Empire was pronounced without notice, to put an end to the Bloody War, a minority of Rathiens saw red. A minority that today was suspected hypothetically responsible for the attack that caused the death of a princess and a handful of soldiers. And now this return to war ... It was necessary to reason with the king, but the only ones who could attempt this were the heirs, all more deeply bitter of vengeance than the others. It seemed to be the realm of the impossible.

"To get back to autoritary decisions when the people were previously given absolute freedom, it is worse than dangerous. "she thought.  
Her thoughts clearly stopped galloping when the emperor in front of her moved, stepping aside to paces in front of his first line, roaring words whose meaning she could only guess approximately because of the distance. What she understood, however, was that it excited the Nordic people who growled, barked, or roared insults in response to Rakurai's words. Next to her, it was Tinarg's turn to take a deep breath and leave his place to proclaim a rather vehement speech in front of his own troops.   
“Comrades!" he thundered loudly. “See these traitorous dogs, all guilty, all murderers of Princess Tourmaline!” he shouted, pointing a wing at the Rakurians, more unleashed than ever. “They still dare, after their outrageous act, to attack with panache the Kingdom of the Rathlands! Behold these cowardly enemies, whose probity is only a chimera, ready to slit your throat for their own pleasure! In the name of Lady Tourmaline, in the name of the Rathlands, may Teostra offer us his justice to triumph over the vermin!”  
Astalian took a step backwards with her left leg. She was preparing her support for an imminent take-off. Behind her, the soldiers who were to close the "bowl" were also preparing to emerge laterally to imprison the Rakurians. In front, Rakurai II moved back to the center of his first line, slightly forward. General Gravios did the same.  
Then, with the same inspiration that everyone felt, there was a single fatal word.  
“FORWARD!” roared in unison the Gravios and the Zinogre Feu-du-Ciel.  
The two parallel masses shook in a deaf din. Then the thunder appeared in the form of a thunderous concert of screams. The celestial howls of the Zinogres and the Rajangs. The piercing roars of the Rathalos and the Tigers. The titanic barrings of the Gammoths and theJade Barroths. The cry of Tinarg. Her cry.  
In an instant, the entire rear put pressure on the front lines, offensives, which took off. Astalian needed only two steps to propel herself into the air, and flapped her elytrated wings vigorously to rise a little higher than the others. She then used this extra altitude to melt down at a startling speed towards the Nordics, who were already standing ready to receive the Rathiens with a whole row of charging Gammoths and a shower of lightnings. Immediately, her fast and threatening shape was noticed, and the first attempts to shoot her down were made. The Astalos easily withstood the electric projectiles intended for her and then chose her first target: a young Zinogre who did not seem to know how to react to the species she represented. Distraught when he saw her focus on him, he quickly began a series of lightning bolts that were cruelly lacking in power. The general absorbed them with ease, then used the electricity received to charge her caudal pincer. With her sword thus electrified, she let herself fall forward to give strength to the vertical strike that she cleansed on the skull of the fanged wyvern, then took advantage of the earthly support he offered to rise again into the sky, avoiding a lightning reaction from the nearby Rakurians. In the bull's eye. The brutal shock of the blade and the electricity concentrated on the head had killed the Zinogre instantly. While its armor was able to withstand the lightning, its brain was not. She rebalanced herself sharply to make a second victim, then regained speed. Harvesting the lost electric discharges, she migrated the energy acquired at the level of her crest and wing claws. When fully charged, she was becoming very intimidating, with the peridot green of its lightning contrasting with the ruby red of its eyes, and its enemies focused their assaults more on the flying wyvern, which was becoming dangerous as it now hovered over the sixth and seventh lines.

If she was flying there, it wasn't for nothing. Indeed, since the Rakurian strategy was to place the greatest strike force in the front, she sowed chaos in the inner, weaker rows in order to attract the front lines as reinforcements, thus stirring up the different powers, and making it easier for the Rathiens in the front line, with their heterogeneous brute force. Her dive became closer and closer, and even if time was difficult to assess, she could certainly assure to have killed at least twenty Nordic warriors in less than ten minutes. Regularly, she glanced towards the Rathian side. The bowl had formed successfully, and from here one could see the heirs with impressive powers fighting ferociously to maintain the central positions. From time to time, a torrent of flames that must have belonged to Zenith would erupt violently, while the air around Arsenic would turn purplish, a sign that her virulent poison was wreaking havoc. Further back, Blast was struggling with a Khezu that he seemed to dominate. The effect of surprise that they were giving them was therefore very effective for the moment. As for their reinforcing Foamian unit, it was led with a masterful hand by this relentless Mizutsune named Opal, who fought ferociously using her foam, bubbles and compressed water jet, while nimbly avoiding the attacks of the Gammoths and Uragaans who stood up to her. A few magmatic lasers gushing out in the middle of the Rakurian lines told him that Tinarg and a few Agnaktors had tried to break through, on the ground, to do maximum damage.  
Swooping towards her next victim, a Blangonga with his back turned, she suddenly threw her talons in front of her to pick him up. Unfortunately, the Jade Barroth standing to his left warned him just in time and took the dragonfly wyvern's talons on his rock-hard head without batting an eyelid. A cold sweat ran down her face as she flapped her wings backwards after using the support, fearing a retaliation marked by something she could not handle: ice. For if the majority of Rakurians used lightning to attack, a minor part of them had abilities related to ice, or even water. However, Astalian was very weak to ice, and had a moderate tolerance for water: it was therefore necessary for her to be more careful when she attacked a soldier using this element. The Jade Barroth did not fail to throw his famous snowballs, but the Astalos had moved far enough away to dodge them without too much trouble. Frustrated, she had to give up tackling this Blangonga, at least for the time being.  
She had to negotiate a sharp turn when a cold wind brushed past her right wing.  
"Oh f-"  
The general didn't even have time to finish her thought that already, a new frozen gust of wind was whistling at the level of her crest buzzing with electricity. Braking abruptly, she waited three seconds and then rose abruptly to find herself behind her attacker: the Barioth Rakurian General. And Teostra knew that even though the Astalos did not know his name, she knew it very well. And so did he.  
Not fooled, the flying saber-toothed tiger quickly turned and twisted to breathe his ice again, this time in the form of a sphere, more precise, then took advantage of an updraft to position himself above the wyverne dragonfly, which gnashed her teeth.

"How we meet again, damn Barioth ... This time, you will not divert me from my mission. Let's see which one of us is smarter. »  
Astalian put her sword back in its sheath, then clapped her electrified caudal pincer several times.  
"Since my blade is so well known to you, I'd like to see how you react if I don't use it! "she roared inside.  
Seeing that his opponent was no longer trying to regain the advantage of altitude, the Barioth swooped on her with its mouth wide open, its amber fangs covered with frost. The Astalos anticipated the reaction that the flying saber-toothed tiger was predicting, and presented her sizzling tail instead of trying to avoid the icy bite. Surprised, the white flying wyvern diverted at the last moment its mouth, but wounded nevertheless the general with one of its notched wings. Astalian, stunned by the blow to her chest, did not have time to retaliate and prepared to receive her enemy again, who returned in the opposite direction, this time to breath ice at close range. When the Barioth came close to releasing his frozen projectile, she summoned three green flashes. The first and second were dodged, but the third struck the back of the Rakurian general, who did not allow himself to be stopped. The icy bullet struck one of Astalian's talons, and she had no trouble recovering afterwards, despite the burning cold taking over it.  
"He gives me a hard time ... But I don't have time to linger with him. I have to find a loophole to escape as quickly as possible, where others will find themselves in trouble. "She thought as she rushed towards the enemy general, who created a tornado to prevent her from approaching.   
The Rathian general went around the windy obstacle briskly, failing to be sucked up by it, before rising above the Barioth, then diving on him, coated with electricity. The impact was as violent for her as it was for him, for as a last resort, the flying saber-toothed tiger, having had no time to dodge, severely dug its icy fangs into her shoulder. The two opponents roared in pain and plummeted violently to the ground.

"Argh ... Why didn't I see it coming ..." the Astalos mentally spat out, getting up with difficulty because of the pain that now radiated from her entire wing, as well as her skull, which had hit the ground.  
Soon, she returned to the air even though she did not yet feel comfortable to take off again, because the ground, invaded by soldiers, was always more dangerous than the sky in this kind of case. Still face down on the ground, the Rakurian general twitched, rescued by a Khezu and a Zamtrios who helped him to get back on his feet.   
"I have to move away quickly, or else he will go after me again. "She thought before slipping away at the speed of lightning that she produced, far behind her to cover her tracks.


	9. Chapter 8 (Oxiderr POV)

Oxiderr was not worried. Admittedly, the first part of the battle turned out to be tighter than expected because of the desperate strategic innovations of the Rathiens, but he remained very confident. Rakurian’ losses remained very low compared to those on the Rathien side, and each Nordic fought with the courage of a lion. Even Acheron, whom he had seen emerge several times from his line, in order to shoot down a troublesome Tigrex. For his part, his electric attacks at incredible range were a great success. The trio he formed with his father and Irodim was a yellow and green wall that was impossible to break. But this wall progressed rapidly toward the heart of the bowl that the Rathiens adopted to try to repel them, along with the Burutians’ reinforcements.

The Howling Zinogre grew increasingly fond of these warriors. Powerful, unshakeable, blinded by the need for destruction, he almost admired them. The only thing he could blame them for was the choice of their nation, that of preferring to wear armor or other gear to fight. Like any good Rakurian worthy of his name, Oxiderr fought without protection, and hardly complained about it. On the contrary.  
"A true warrior does not hide under artificial shields. What's more, it is very cumbersome to carry and hinders movement. "He thought.

A Khezu landed in front of them, smeared with blood that was not his, because he bore no open wound. A soldier in the last lines, judging by his correct but relatively weak musculature.  
“Your Excellency Rakurai," he bowed hastily and panting, "General Blizzard was anxious to inform you of his readiness to put out of action the swordsman Astalos which threatens the inner lines and our strategy. He sent me to report that he has been significantly affected by it, and that it will take a while before he can resume his pursuit and create a diversion.”  
His father's muzzle wrinkled with discontent.  
“Although he is quickly back on his feet, Blizzard is crucial to us in dealing with this Rathien general. In the meantime, give Asterion the order to get the air squad going to keep the pressure on her. Under no circumstances should she make herself comfortable over our heads!” he ordered, his fangs slightly uncovered, while electrocuting a Nargacuga who was approaching dangerously, and to whom he only took a brief glance at the corpse to make sure of his death.

“All right, Your Excellency.”  
The flying wyvern with its flabby white skin took off clumsily as soon as he had finished his sentence. Oxiderr thundered the Pink Rathian that had appeared to prevent him from transmitting the precious message. She screamed in pain before hitting the ground, head first, where she was quickly reduced to lint by the Zinogres who were covering the imperial breakthrough.   
“So naive, so weak! What a pleasure to shot them like small preys!” he rejoiced, a carnivorous smile on his lips.  
His younger brother also expressed his amusement at massacring the Rathians.  
“It's true that it's funny! They're dropping like flies!" Irodim barked, who despite this naive statement was bearing scarlet drips on his fangs.  
“Victory is at hand, my sons! All we have to do now is break their formation and the door of Ignis will be open to us!" cried their patriarch as he knocked down the Lavasioth in front of him with a single blow of his paw, his amber fur bristling with electricity.

They advanced more and more towards the center of the bowl, where their progress was brutally slowed down: the fighting raged there, and the many lost projectiles, Rathiens and Rakurians alike, whistled at the level of their horns. In addition, corpses were beginning to pile up everywhere, and the enormous carrion of a dying Gammoth forced them to make wide detours more than once. When he would find a Rathien body, Oxiderr would check to make sure that there was no trace of life left in them. If it was dead for sure, he would only be interested in it for five seconds at the most; if not, he would hideously scratch them with a claw that had been covered with the filthy mud covering the ground. Their suffering would thus be longer and unbearable, and this thought made him peculiarly happy. The only advantage of these macabre mounds was the possibility of retreating behind them, waiting for a lull in a furious duel taking place nearby.  
“Let's split up, moving forward as a group in this way becomes too complicated, Rakurai said. As for you," he then added to the covering Zinogres, "prevent the generals from coming back to defend here! “

The fanged wyverns ran immediately in the opposite direction, eliminating anything that could delay them in their task with ardor.  
“Let's go. And remember, we take no prisoners!" Rakurai barked as he rushed through the compact mass of fighting soldiers.  
Oxiderr responded with a thunderous howl that allowed him to reach his maximum charge.   
"You’re damn right, we're not taking any prisoners! »   
Each contact of his paws with the ground began to provoke a powerful electrical pulse that terrorized anyone who was too close. The Howling Zinogre had a grin: once the owner of this furious deluge of lightning was identified, everyone retreated. Oxiderr, one of the three sons of the glorious Rakurai II, Emperor of Rakuria! He knew that the Rathiens knew very few Rakurian names, but those of the imperial family were feared by all. The proof being their reaction to his nightmarish appearance. It had to be said that with its inordinately large horns, protruding canines, ghostly gray hue and overdeveloped spikes, they had a lot of reasons to be distraught.

"That said, it is true that after ten years of confrontation, we still forget the names of the generals and heirs. But the heirs don't fight, and as far as the generals are concerned, it's only a matter of time before they are torn to pieces ... Damn Astalos. I would like to have the honor of gutting her myself. "thought Oxiderr.  
Howling at the moon, the fanged wyvern galloped through the melee that frightened away from the ashen shape wrapped in murderous lightnings. Yielding to the intoxication of war and the exhilarating effect of the ambient electricity, Oxiderr leapt to ground anything that crossed his gaze, provided it was a Rathien. He defended one of the last Gammoths of the legion who had been sent to the brink of the battle, with the aim of creating loopholes in the Rathien army that the next ones would only have to infiltrate.   
The Gammoths were the most suitable species for frontal combat that the Empire had at its disposal. Thanks to their immense mammoth body, they could withstand the most powerful assaults without flinching, and retaliate with their own slow but invincible charge. In addition, their long tusks and their large skull with its rocky surface were   
excellent weapons. 

If that wasn’t enough, there remained their ability to freeze the air they inhaled with their trunk, which could be used to create an ice armor on the legs of this colossus or simply freeze the aggressors. As for this trunk, it was known to be capable of lifting and projecting a Tigrex. In case of too great a danger, or fording a river, the lightest soldiers of the Empire, mainly the Blangongas and Lagombis, were allowed to climb these living blue mountains. They thus made an excellent observation post.  
The still very valiant Gammoth was assaulted by a Nargacuga which it held in respect with its defenses, as well as two Rathalos burning its flanks with their flames. The elder Rakurian heir defeated them without difficulty with the support of the hairy pachyderm. He also met a Brute Tigrex lying on the ground, amputated of a back leg, but which nevertheless delivered a fight of an astonishing ferocity to him. It took Oxiderr only a moment when the remaining rear leg was in the blind spot of the Rathien soldier. He grabbed it with his electrified jaws and then broke it with a sharp and resounding blow. The flying wyvern uttered a roar of pain that the Roaring Zinogre choked as it quickly jumped on its back to slit its throat. Around him, Oxiderr noticed that the fire of battle was beginning to die down. There were far more bodies on the ground than fighting warriors, and the ground could no longer absorb the torrent of blood being offered to it. The stench of death was rising from the carrions and vitiating the air, becoming less and less breathable.

"To think that in a month or two, this battlefield will have become a prosperous and flourishing field. It's funny to see how death and life are bound! »  
He then noticed two strange Raths in confrontation with Stygian Zinogres. He remembered seeing them before the assault, but the Howling Zinogre did not take seriously what his eyes were telling him. Yet he now saw them more closely and could be certain of the vision that was before him. One was a white Rathalos veined with azure and with different wing patterns than the ordinary Rathalos Oxiderr knew, and the other was a Rathian more lilac-scaled than khaki, whose poisonous tail created poisonous clouds; The Howling Zinogre had also never seen such a thing. Both wore fairly well chiseled armor, indicating a likely status as either commander or lieutenant.   
"What are these strange birds? The Rathalos is neither red nor blue, but white! Yet only the Rathien king and his queen have a unique color! And this Rathian’s poison ... There is nothing ordinary about it! New recruits? Already at this stage in the hierarchy? Impossible! Who are they then, so that I have never heard of them?! "Oxiderr fulminated as he revealed his fangs.  
He was furious at the simple idea of having to be careful with the vermin that were the Rathians.  
"Well, I guess there’s only one thing to do then. »  
His roar of rage sounded like a thunder clap. 

Immediately, all the Rathien eyes present converged on him, including that of the white Rathalos and the purplish Rathian. The former opened his eyes wide, while the latter kept a neutral expression.  
The moon-colored wolf then came dangerously close to the two unknown Raths, letting his lightning bolts roar in his place, his sharp fangs still visible.  
"Besides, weren't they three when I saw them ?" wondered Oxiderr.  
In response to this thought, a ferocious roar reached his ears, which were grasped the next second by claws. With no time to grasp what was happening behind him, the Howling Zinogre was dragged forward by its assailant, forcing him to roll with his back to the ground and his belly exposed. The Rathien then let go of his grip on Oxiderr's ears and held him down with one clamp on his chest and another on one of his hind legs.   
The fluffy state he was in quickly gave way to hatred.  
"WHO IS THE FUCKING RAT WHO DARED TO TAKE ME BY SURPRISE?! "he exclaimed mentally so loudly that his thought turned into a furious howl.

He finally regain the use of his eyes, which for a few seconds had been transmitting only blurred images and stars, and discovered the face of the one who would pay dearly for this affront: a Rathalos more massive than usual, with a dark red wingspan of golden patterns, and adorned with an armor slightly lighter than the garnet color of his body.

“Who are you, child of a whore, to dare to attack your opponent like a traitor?! he roared, mad with sheer rage, before violently throwing the flying wyvern to the ground with a single kick.  
He rather badly accused the blow and coughed a sheaf of blood, unable to get up, dazed by the shock. Oxiderr took the opportunity to reverse the roles, squeezing the neck of the garnet Rathalos between his claws, which could only groan in pain because of the pressure on him, unable to defend himself. The Zinogre brought his frightening muzzle closer to the head of the vanquished.   
“That's all you have, you miserable runt?! he spat in his face, even more furious to have been fooled by such a loser.

The garnet Rathalos hardly opened his eyes again to try to breath a fireball, but only smoke came out of his blocked throat. He coughed again, then tried to hit Oxiderr with his tail, which was a true weapon given the spiked protection covering it. The latter, obviously noticing the slow movement of the caudal appendage, crushed it with his right hind leg. The other could only manage to utter a muffled scream. The lunar-hued Zinogre slapped him in the face with rage, leaving a black mark on the Rathalos's cheek, charred by electricity that was beyond the control of the electric wolf.  
“So you dare to attack Oxiderr, Rakuria's eldest heir, with a force as pathetic as yours? You deserve the most atrocious death for wasting my time!”  
At these words, he raised his right paw high, which glowed with electricity, and brought it down on the torso of the flying wyvern, which this time found enough voice to roar his distress. The electricity sizzled for a moment on the body of the garnet Rathalos, then disappeared.  
“What did you think? That your miserable piece of rubber would save you in any situation? You Rathien dogs are so naive that it’s laughable!" the Howling Zinogre growled, preparing to strike a second blow at the half-conscious Rathalos.  
“Leave him in peace! If you want an opponent, here I am ! Leave this Rathalos be : you said it yourself, he's not worth it,” said the strange Rathian who had decided to intervene, under the amazed eyes of the white Rathalos.

She already seemed tougher to him just by her attitude. Her talons anchored in the ground, her deployed wings, her head high, her fierce look, everything seemed more believable to him. That interested him a lot. But he was not going to give in to her. Or at least not now. First, he was going to play a little with his newly-found prey.

“This Rathalos showed an audacity that must be punished! One does not attack with impunity one more powerful than oneself, what's more from behind, the worst insult one can do to a Nordic warrior!” Oxiderr barked.  
“If you kill him, he won't have a lesson to learn," the Rathian remarked.

Around them, the soldiers were wondering what to do. Leave them? Attack the one who was attacking the Rathalos? To flee?   
“If I kill him, it will be to set an example to your other miscreants of soldiers!” he replied, enraged that he was being answered this way.  
“You talk about a behavior for a warrior to adopt, but wouldn't that behavior forbid you from attacking an opponent on the ground?" the Rathian grumbled.  
“Not if that opponent already made a crucial mistake!" replied the Howling Zinogre angrily.  
The Rathian seemed increasingly nervous.  
“Speaking of contempt, did not your people commit a far more slanderous one? Like the assassination of Princess Tourmaline?” she asked more calmly, but full of virulent bitterness.  
Oxiderr saw red.  
“What dare you say, damned malformed Rathian? You put the blame on our honest nation, for you are too ashamed to admit that this happened because of your negligence?!” he thundered.  
The insult hit the nail on the head, and the said Rathian gritted her teeth in anger.  
“For the punishment, that scoundrel will die first!” he shouted, threatening a third time to severely injure the now unconscious Rathalos.  
The green flying wyvern reacted with a quarter turn, breathing a powerful sphere of fire on the leg that Oxiderr had raised. He abandoned the inert body of the Rathalos.

“What's your name, cursed anomaly?" he scolded as he pressed his last words, aware of the effect they would have.  
He saw her tensing up more, but she did not answer.  
“What is your name?!”  
She loosened her jaws slightly.  
“Arsenic.”  
The Nordic grinned.  
“Well, Arsenic, if you want so much to get what's left of this damn dog, come and fight me, since you feel you can!”   
The Rathian walked a few steps forward and then hit the ground with her tail. Oxiderr thought for a moment that this was an attempt to intimidate him, but then he noticed that she then grabbed two of the purple shards that had appeared where the tips of her tail had hit the ground.   
“En garde," she said, returning to her stoic attitude, even though Oxiderr could sense her palpable hatred behind this mask of neutrality.  
“I hope you'll do better than this one," the Howling Zinogre mocked, pointing a claw at the lying Rathalos.  
She did not respond to this provocation, and Oxiderr took advantage of this moment of hesitation to throw the first shot. He summoned ten electric spheres on the Rathian, who narrowly avoided them all. She then spat out a fireball that fragmented, causing multiple small explosions. The Zinogre only had to leap out of reach. It then rushed so sharply towards the Rathian that all she could see was a trail of lightning bolts rushing straight towards her, and then the huge body of the Roaring Zinogre reappeared and struck her wildly. She was pushed back into the distance, but rose quickly despite the damage caused by her dazzling charge: the claws on her wings had been broken, and a thin trickle of blood ran down her right thigh. The Rathian named Arsenic responded with a fire ball that she breathed as she flew away. Oxiderr blocked it with one paw, then stepped forward quietly and, with a slight contraction of his back muscles, unleashed the power of his Fulgurbugs in several lightning bolts of frightening precision. She avoided them all, as she was accustomed to this exercise, but the Howling Zinogre did not give in, and continued to harass her, wishing to exhaust and then trap her. However, instead of dodging them all, she forced herself to take a few shots to get close to her opponent, taking less damage thanks to the lightning protection of her armor.  
"Damn rubber coated armor, luckily there aren't many of them ... Rathiens really are the worst cowards to use this kind of ploy! " he spat mentally.

Seeing her reduce the distance, Oxiderr invoked three lightning bolts at once to stop her. The Rathian managed to get around them with some difficulty, and then rushed at him in a final effort. The Howling Zinogre then decided to leap against her, his electrified jaws ready to bite on the tender flesh of the green dragon's belly. Oxiderr realized too late that it was a feint. She swung to the left, then slapped him so hard on the snout of her dangerous tail that the fanged wyvern crashed to the ground. The wound inflicted by the spines of the caudal appendage oozed toxic liquid, causing Oxiderr to growl furiously.  
"What virulence, by Kirin! One would think that she set fire to my blood with her cursed venom! "he weighed inwardly, even though his surprise and suffering were visible to his enemy and the Rathian soldiers.  
When he got up, he noticed that the shock of the Rathian's tail on his head had created a cloud of poison that spread through the air. If the green dragon did not care, the Howling Zinogre was already feeling the effects of this foul air in his lungs, amplifying his suffering due to the circulation of the liquid and gaseous poison in his body.  
"By all the gods! How is it that I am so quickly put in trouble by a damned Rathian?! »  
The said Rathian rested, her purple crystals in one of her talons. She must have felt confident after poisoning him, which made him even more enraged. He set off again in a lightning charge, but the Rathian must have anticipated it because he missed her. Leaving her no respite, he spinned, allowing him to send twenty electric balls around him. They hit Rathien soldiers who fled, but the Rathian was still nowhere to be found until he felt a discomfort in his left shoulder. He had a shiver of surprise: an amethyst shard was stuck in it, and he was losing purple-tinged blood. The poison began to irradiate both his shoulders. The sensation of molten magma in his veins became unbearable.  
The pain made him lose his mind, so much so that he carried out his most powerful blow, whereas he reserved it only for very precise cases, his revelation remaining a means of proving to enemies that he had more than one trick up his sleeve. He howled, and then an intense light enveloped him. The sky began to rumble, then an electric dome appeared all around Oxiderr, who jumped and landed with force on the ground. As if it were an order, all the power accumulated by the Howling Zinogre was released in an instant, and within a second it became a green and blue column of light. He heard through its roar and that of lightning the scream of the Rathian, which he saw struck by lightning in mid-air, having been trapped by the dome of destruction. Under the power of this release of energy, lumps of mud and earth then fell to the ground. When silence fell, all the Rathiens, except for the strange trio, were on the ground. A few soldiers who had realized far too late what was going on were strewing the ground with their corpses. In the distance he heard the faint echo of the Rathien bugle. They had retreated. The fanged wyvern could already discern the squads of soldiers charged with recovering the wounded who could not move.  
On his trembling limbs, Oxiderr was panting, despite the electric charge he still had after such a blow. He felt molten, his vision blurred at times, and he found it increasingly difficult to stand. With difficulty, he tore the crystal from his shoulder and then noticed a second projectile lodged in his chest. The Rathian had managed to throw this last shard before getting hit, hoping to defeat him with this final move. He removed it like the other.  
His satisfaction and rage weakly overcame the pain, which had become so violent that his body seemed unable to transmit it. He briefly scanned the scene with his eyes, then turned his heels, trying to move forward, one step at a time. The strange Raths were nowhere to be seen, maybe under mounts of mud, dirt, and even bodies.  
"I'm going to teach those damn dogs what I do to those who resist me...! »   
He advised a Rathalos lying on the ground, short of breath. His tail had been cut off, and one of his claws was in a pitiful state. So pitiful that even the most optimistic of healers would not dare claim to be able to cure it. He grabbed the Rathien's neck, who protested weakly between his fangs, and dragged him with him to the Rakurian’s base camp.

*****************************

The Howling Zinogre went to a very particular side of the camp. The side of those who followed him, who appreciated his way of doing things. His camp. It had been created quite a while ago, during the Bloody War. Some people felt that Rakurai II was being too gentle with the enemy, who should be exterminated without ceremony or rules. Oxiderr had discovered this resentment on a summer evening during one of his nightly drinking sessions. The power of alcohol brought them and their ideas together, and thus their band of anarchists was born. In this time of war, they discussed the emperor's mistakes, and sometimes even insulted him openly: no one feared reprisals as long as the eldest heir was with them. He himself did not hesitate to criticize his father when he was drunk.   
Sometimes, when the opportunity arose, they would retrieve a corpse and beat and mutilate it. This was against the warrior's code, but they did not care, since in their view they were enemies who deserved no pity. On the other hand, they had to be careful not to be caught in the act: if his father learned of the existence of his gang and its practices, there was no doubt that he would be in an unfortunate mess, and unable to serve his sadistic impulses. When he crossed the part of the camp that did not interest him, many questioning and scornful glances were cast on the body of the Rathalos he was dragging. However, he did not worry about the large number of witnesses to his passage: nobody would dare to denounce him, and even if they did, the emperor would most certainly have them cut off their heads to dare to attack his son if they did not have enough evidence. But he would leave no evidence. His father could well suspect that something was wrong with him, so as long as the accusations were so weak and unfounded, he had nothing to fear.  
Irodim appeared out of nowhere and met him with curious eyes.  
“You brought back a prisoner? But Daddy said we should not, didn't he?” he asked.  
He put the Rathien on the ground so he could answer him.  
“He's dead, Irodim. If I took the trouble to drag him here, it's to understand how their damn lightning armor works. I confronted three new lieutenants who had some, and it bothered me prodigiously. We need to find a way to counter these things before they become too common among the Rathiens. I took the body with it for testing,” lied the Howling Zinogre, however very convincing.   
“You're going to give it to Acheron then? So he could study it?”  
Oxiderr broke into a cold sweat. He hadn't thought of that answer from his little brother. 

“I did most of the work by dragging it here ! I’m not sharing it !” he scolded. “I don't see why it should only be Acheron's job to study it! He could find himself a carrion if he wants to experiment!”  
The Immortal Zinogre seemed to be satisfied with this answer.  
“It's true, if he was that smart, he would have thought of it. But that's not the case," he nodded.  
The eldest of the siblings left him with this thought, and took the Rathalos between his fangs. He was not in the mood to think and argue any further, the venom in his veins making him not patient and inclined to think, he already was not.

When he arrived in the closed circle of his companions' tents, he released the red flying wyvern, which gave off a faint squeak, only proof that he was still alive. Oxiderr stepped over one of his wings without paying any more attention to it.  
“My friends! Look what I brought back for you! Tonight, I'm paying for my round!" he growled, a painful but satisfied smile on his chops.  
His brothers in thought emerged from their tents, most of them still in good shape, with only a few superficial wounds.  
“Oxiderr! We wondered what you were doing! You've brought us a new toy, I see?" a Zamtrios answered cheerfully, a cruel smile on his face.  
“And alive, too!" a Blangonga wondered, punching the Rathalos, who groaned.  
“Ah yes, my brave men! But I will ask you to keep it that way until tonight, or the whole point of my delay will have lost its meaning. Try not to damage the merchandise too much.”  
They answered him with a devious nod.  
“I'll come back at sunset, I have some business to attend to," he declared, pointing to his wounds, masking his suffering.  
The Blangonga approached to take a closer look at the wounds.  
“By Oroshi! Who could have managed to get so close to you?!” he exclaimed, having seen Oxiderr come back with such scars very few times.  
The Howling Zinogre had a disdainful pout.  
“Not a worthy opponent, in any case! I wanted to give a beating to two lieutenants who had caught my eye, except that a third one attacked me like a traitor, behind my back! The other two bastards took advantage of the situation to get three on me! I managed to land a good blow, reminding them of the sense of honor they did not possess, after which I cut them to pieces. But that strange Rathian had a tough poison, see, my scales turned purple ! A real liquid fire!” he smiled despite the burning of the said poison.  
A Jade Barroth had joined the gathering that was forming around the elder Rakurian heir.  
“I have faced many Rathians, but a venom that leaves such traces, never!”   
The Howling Zinogre thought about this for a moment.

*************************************

When the sun retreated to make way for the moon, he and his followers joined the Rathien village where the Rakurians celebrated their victory, plundering the few riches they had, raping and drinking. The rebel warriors participated for a while in these festivities, which they found more and more bland with each passing year, then quietly slipped away while Rakurai made a twenty-fifth toast to their future annexation of the Rathlands. They passed through their camp again to take the Rathalos in pain, then dragged it to a hill that offered a view of the village animated by Nordic troops. The Howling Zinogre took a brief glance at the precipice that bordered the hill.  
The alcohol and traces of the poison still in his body galvanized him. He felt boiling, furious and joyful at the same time. This prompted him to proclaim a speech of his own composition, in front of his companions who were nibbling on the remains of roasted Aptonoth.  
“My friends!" he began to draw their attention.” I have told you how those cowardly soldiers came after me, and the bitterness it left in my mouth. If I brought back this carrion, it is to take revenge on these rats!” he roared. “If for us, the worst slander is to attack us behind our backs, what could humiliate and outrage a Rathien, in your opinion?!”  
They all proposed different ideas.  
“Let's drown him!”   
“We boil him!”   
“We burn him alive! Killed by the fire he mastered!”  
Oxiderr had a frank but terrifying laugh.  
“No, my friends! The Rathiens spit fire, it's a fact. But don't forget also that they can fly! And how do you insult a flying wyvern? You cut off its wings!" he replied, pointing to the Rathalos, who in a final burst of adrenaline had opened his eyes in horror, and tried to crawl away from the mad Nordics.  
The others approved his proposal with bursts of fat laughter.

“Will you do me the honor of proceeding?” he asked them, his fangs uncovered in a crazy grin, taking the neck of Rathalos without mercy, which he brought back and then crushed with one knee on his rib cage, grabbing a knife.  
The Nordic people loudly expressed their excitement.  
“Go on! And do not miss it !”  
The lunar gray Zinogre planted his blade in the muscle of the left wing of the Rathalos, which was ready to sink into unconsciousness by the intensity of the pain. Oxiderr baffled him to keep him awake: if he did not suffer, this spectacle would no longer be of interest, and his hatred would not be satisfied. With a slow and methodical gesture, he pulled on it, tearing the muscles and tissues, smearing the wing limb with vital fluid. The Rathien muffled a scream, blood having flowed down his throat, preventing any sound from coming out.

Once the wing was half severed, Oxiderr released the knife. Then, slowly, savoring the excruciating suffering of his victim, he ripped the wing from the body, whose reaction was to vomit a significant amount of blood. The wolf then took his dagger and put it in the other wing, this time in the middle of the tender veil, which he savagely mutilated with multiple cuts. When the dagger reduced the wing to a piece of cloth pierced from side to side, he sliced the part of the wing membrane adjacent to the body. The Rathalos seemed to find enough strength to scream, but the Howling Zinogre silenced him with a punch. He then called one of his followers to hold the body while he grabbed the wing still held by his bone and muscle. With a sharp blow, he dislodged it, then severed the tendons with his claws. The Rathien, stunned, regained consciousness in a heart-rending yelp that was killed by Oxiderr's acolyte. The Rakurian heir then drove the knife into the ground.  
“I have a "scientific" question for you ..." he said, turning to the spectators, his face stained with blood.  
The others, a little intimidated by the scene, waited for his point.  
“Can a Rathalos without wings fly?”  
Exalted, they answered him to carry out an "experiment" to answer this question.  
Oxiderr again stretched his fangs into an insane smile, grabbing the horribly mutilated Rathien and placing him near the precipice.  
“How lucky we are! Here is a gully that will allow us to get an answer!” he exclaimed falsely, triggering more sneers from his colleagues.   
The exaltation reached its climax.  
“Death to the mangy dog!”   
-”Don't make us languish any longer, by the Gods!”  
He let go of the body into the void. Immediately, everyone rushed to take advantage of the vision of the fall of the amorphous Rathien, who hit a dozen rocks before crashing to the ground, inert.

************************************

In the depths of the ravine, the Rathalos, unfortunately still alive, suffered its agony in silence. His ribs broken, his wings torn off, his skull fractured, his whole body screamed an atrocious and deaf suffering that he could only express through the rare tears that slid down his bloody face. When he finally felt with relief his heart slowing down and his vision turning black, he murmured:  
\- Ga ... Gamala ...


	10. Chapter 10 (Arsenic POV)

“Oxiderr …”  
For one of the first times in her life, Arsenic had released her emotions. She usually kept them all to herself, and her siblings were the only one also able to read her mood. Her adoptive parents had always been unable to do so, so she was misunderstood when she was just a hatchling. But there, in spite of herself, the seal that kept her thoughts locked up had broken. The Dreadqueen Rathian was not the only one to have undergone a similar trauma: since they had been found lying in the middle of the battlefield and brought back to the Rathlands’ Castle, the day before, Blast had stopped eating and talking, and Zenith had still not woken up. By elimination, it was up to her to tell the generals and the king about their tragic encounter with the one who presented himself as the eldest heir of the Rakurai Empire. Of course, the king ordered her and her two brothers to stay out of the conflict, terrorized by the event that almost cost the lives of three of his children. Arsenic nodded his head at him, but a determination similar to Zenith's had been born in her mind, and she wanted to live only to find this "Oxiderr" to confront and kill him again, thus punishing him for his outrageous act and insults. Astalian, who had detected this unusual spark in the Rathian's calm eyes, came to see her afterwards at Zenith's bedside. She had explained to him that what they had seen so far was only the beginning of horror, and that she did not blindly support the words of Khryselios, but that they should know that by continuing to fight, this kind of event could be usual. Arsenic nodded her head again, but she had no desire to weigh the pros and cons, as she did every time. The war was also becoming a personal matter now. And whoever had violated honor by attacking Zenith had to pay. So the general had left him like that, feeling the ineffectiveness of her words, by throwing her a sorry look which she had then put on the inert body of the Dread King Rathalos. When she had disappeared, Arsenic had closed the door, then moved closer to the bed to stay by her brother's side, silent. Then she had broken through the silence by whispering the name that now gave new meaning to her reason for being. 

Blast made such a discreet entrance that he could have been mistaken for a ghost. His natural pallor did not help him; his face, paler than usual, was contrasted by dark circles under his eyes, giving him a ghostly appearance. His vermilion eyes fell on Zenith and then on his sister. He came to meet her, and the Rathian knew that in such situations it was better not to say anything, so she spread her wings to wrap her little brother in an affectionate embrace. It didn't take long for him to relax, shaken with sobs.  
“I-I ... I was so scared! I-I stood there like a coward doing nothing, while you had the courage to stand up for yourself...!” the crystal Rathalos hissed. “I-I was useless! It's because of me that he may be going to die!”

Arsenic tightened her embrace slightly as if to squeeze the acidic juice of Blast's guilt. This juice materialized in the form of salty tears that his brother was shedding more and more.  
“I-I'm tired of being a coward!” squealed the alabaster Rathalos. “It's only m-my fault if Zenith is l-like that!”  
She judged that she could start to intervene.  
“Blast, this Zinogre was overpowering. Myself, I did not manage to push him away. Zenith was beaten to a pulp in less than thirty seconds. You couldn't have done better. We were fooled by an enemy that proved too powerful. We owe our lives to a miracle, that's all we can deduce from it.”  
He raised his wet eyes slightly.  
“I was t-too weak …”  
“We all were. The only one to blame is not you, but this Rakurian for having outraged us.” She said softly.  
Blast did not answer, but his downcast eyes showed a hint of life.  
Arsenic heard a slight knock at the door, and released her brother to open it. Phoenix and Blister stood behind it, a grave look painted on their faces. Unlike the younger sibling, the Princess looked strangely untired, but Arsenic guessed that her makeup probably concealed the visible signs of her anxiety.  
The Dreadqueen yielded to their silent request by letting them in.  
“He ... still hasn't woken up, has he?" Phoenix asked weakly.  
Arsenic shook his head.  
Blister slowly approached the four-poster bed. The eldest was still asleep, lying in a curled position, and his breathing, though slow and difficult, was steady. The Black Rathian lightly brushed one of the wings of the Rathalos with her own. She did not get any reaction from the Rathalos.  
“Are we ... Are we at least sure that he will regain consciousness?”   
Her voice trembled like a leaf turbulated by the wind.   
Arsenic stared at her younger sister for a moment, then her gaze fell on the Incendiary Rathalos, whose anguish was noticeable by the absence of flames emerging from his body. She did not dare to answer, and lowered her amethyst irises. The purple-scaled Rathian put an end to the silent tension by raising her gaze as she looked up at her brothers and sister and left the room, casting a last glance at Zenith's body.

*******************************

She had been flying aimlessly for a good hour when she decided to land near one of the chapels of Ignis. She suspected that the cathedral must have been stormed by the inhabitants begging for Teostra's intervention, after the Rathians' bitter defeat. No sooner had her claws touched the ground than she felt the excitement in the center of the city. The air was heavy and resonating with the hubbub that was rising from everywhere. On the day after the battle, the whole city was agitated by the latest news. The lightning attack of Rakurai, the massacre of the Rathiens, the state of the prince after his confrontation with the eldest son of the Nordic emperor ... Arsenic felt the serious, anxious emotions floating in the sky where the sun was shining at its zenith. She let out a brief sigh, then entered the small building intended for prayers. The deserted and rather dark interior comforted her. She walked to the stone altar to deposit some coins, then, looking up at the flame burning there, she addressed her most fervent prayer to the astral Lions.  
“O Teostra and Lunastra, preserve the life of my brother Zenith, I beseech you, that he may bind up his wounded honor.”  
After a brief sign of the wing that was supposed to represent the diurnal star, she left the chapel, and went to the first tavern she found. She still had a few Rathdors left, and she thought her father wouldn't hold it against her this time to take her mind off things with alcohol. So she entered the establishment called "The Blue Flame", run by an Azure Rathalos, where there was a palpable agitation. The place being mainly frequented by Rathalos and Basarios, she passed unnoticed in the middle of this rabble.   
The Basarios were actually Gravios still in a juvenile stage. What gave them a name of their own was their physical difference with their adult stage. They were plump, had a very short and thin tail and two stony growths on the tip of the nose, while the Gravios were certainly huge but balanced, and had only a small tip between their two nostrils. Their tails were nothing like those they had as Basarios: long, quilled, and ending in a sledgehammer that could knock down a wall, they became a real weapon. Sometimes, however, instead of the usual rock, crystals grew along the backbone of a Basarios. This "Ruby Basarios'' would grow up to become a much darker shade, losing its pinkish crystals and becoming a Black Gravios. This kind of phenomenon was still being studied by scholars, who had not yet found an explanation for this mutation. If the origin of some subspecies had been clarified for decades already, others remained misunderstood, such as the Basarios or the Nargacugas.  
Arsenic promptly went to the counter and deposited 3 Rathdors.  
“A might seed liquor please," she said, staring the barkeeper straight in the eyes.  
He seemed hesitant about how to respond.  
“Yes, ma'am.”  
When he came back with the said liquor, the lilac Rathian thanked him and placed an extra Rathdor on the counter. It was the turn of the Rathalos Azur to thank her for her tip. 

She stayed near the bar sipping her drink, listening to the words of the Rathiens present. The Rathian discerned a majority of sterile discussions about the necessity of killing Rakurai in the same way he had Princess Tourmaline killed, as well as several debates about why Burutians were engaged with Solhatar's worst cockroaches, and should help Rathlands instead. One conversation, however, aroused her curiosity, as the words "outrage" and "divine punishment" caught her attention. As she concentrated further, she learned that a dead soldier had been found with both wings amputated and left for dead at the bottom of a ravine. His broken ribcage proved an appalling hypothesis: he had been mutilated in this way and then thrown into the abyss. As the crime scene was close to the village that the Rakurians had stormed to celebrate their crushing victory, it was clear that this was a barbaric act perpetrated by a Nordic.   
"To slice the wings of a Rathien, the worst outrage one can do to him! Would the Rakurians be so abominable? Who would be mad enough not to fear the fury of the Gods? "she thought in disgust.  
She decided to let go of the thread when the discussion became irrelevant, and drifted into insults to the entire Nordic people.   
The door opened rather abruptly, attracting the rather angry attention of all the customers. A rather banged up Mizutsune made her entrance, accompanied by a Daimyo Hermitaur and a Shogun Ceanataur. She seemed furious, judging by the scarlet color of her fins, and hurried to the bar, where she noisily slammed about fifteen coins in front of the manager's nose, who had wrinkled features.   
“Do you have tea?” she asked rather aggressively.  
“Only green," the flying wyvern grunted in response.  
She glanced at her acolytes who nodded.  
“Two green teas and a beer then.”  
The innkeeper nodded his head. The Leviathan and her fellow carapaceons settled down at a nearby table and began a very virulent discussion, which the Mizutsune clearly seemed to be leading. From here, Arsenic heard unkind words coming out of her mouth. The other clients were strongly irritated by her noisy presence, but remained calm, only gnashing their teeth.

"It's very strange for a Foamian to be so... belligerent? Energetic? Unless she is not? Perhaps a mercenary without a Nation..." she thought.  
The Rathalos Azur hailed one of its waiters Felyne, who then brought the drinks to the Ecumiens.   
“You've never seen Opal?” he asked, noting his curious interest in the newcomers. “What a specimen though! One would not guess that it is indeed a princess!”  
Arsenic looked back at him, urging him to continue. She was mistaken, apparently.  
“Every time the Foamias send us a reinforcement unit, it’s her who leads them. Sometimes there is their general too, whose name no one has remembered. It must be said that compared to her, he is a shy one! I am sure that she has pushed him aside on purpose in order to have the reins entirely. From what I've been told, on the battlefield, it's a tiger! Wild and unstoppable! I think that defeat leaves a rather bitter taste in her mouth, if you know what I mean.”  
"Ah, that's the least we can say. "She thought as she watched again as the fierce Mizutsune pointed an accusing claw at the Shogun Ceanataur, while the Daimyo Hermitaur defended him.  
“Somehow, a ball of energy like that, it lifts the spirits, you know? Most people are defeatist and think it's not even worth resisting the Rakurians anymore. Few still claim loud and clear that our revenge will be accomplished by crushing them. Just looking at her, one could feel in the mood to fight. It's like a visual slap that puts ideas back in place. Its virulence is as if it were contagious …”  
She nodded her head. It actually made sense.  
After her third liquor, the Queen Poison resolved to leave the establishment to the very intoxicated customers. From outside, one could still hear the shouts of Opal, who had started playing Gwent with Rathien mercenaries, and who, as a sore loser, roared with indignation at each defeat. Perhaps it was because of the amount of money she had bet. She had had to swallow at least four beers since her arrival and, because of her Foamian way of life away from alcohol, she must have been holding it badly. Alcohol's effects must have been the reason why the idea of playing cards with an astronomical amount of money had occurred to her.  
The sun was still high in the sky, and the bright light outside in contrast to the subdued light of the tavern attacked her eyes. Arsenic took flight and headed to Knart's forge to retrieve her armor and that of his brothers, which, having suffered considerable damage, had been entrusted to the royal blacksmith. The alcohol - although she was more at ease with her effects than the Foamian princess - weakened her wings, which encouraged her to walk the last few meters. No doubt it was the cold that amplified this feeling of limpness. When she arrived at the forge, it was deserted, and she had to ring a small bell for one of the workers to come to meet her.   
”Hello, is Knart here?" the Dreadqueen asked the Lavasioth.  
“No, alas, what was it for? I could convey your request to him, My Lady.”  
“I've come to collect our armor," she explained. There are three of them, one red, one blue and one green ...   
The description seemed to evoke something of Lavasioth.  
“ Of course it did! I'll bring them to you right away!”  
The worker disappeared into the tunnel leading to the workshop. He returned less than two minutes later with the three armors, shiny and almost new. Knart had done an excellent job on them, and Arsenic estimated the time required for such a polish at four hours per piece.   
After thanking the Lavasioth, she flew away again, grasping her burden firmly in her talons, and headed for the castle. 

She hesitated to push the rare wooden door decorated with gold again. Taking a brave inspiration, Arsenic entered Zenith's deserted room. The purple scaled Rathian placed the dark red armor on the desk and approached the prince's bed again. Pulling out a chair of her own, she sat down, and glanced out the window. Winter tinged the landscape with white, though the first snows had not yet arrived, despite the sun's persistent glow that gave strength to its rays. Arsenic remembered a time when, as a little hatchling, she used to play with her brothers at the snow fight. At that time, Phoenix was still a very young hatchling, but the Incendiary Rathalos was already able to instantly melt the snow nearby. As a result, he always won, because no snowball could touch his burning scales. The Rathian also remembered that Chryselene would call them afterwards to drink warm Aptonoth milk with honey from the corner of the hearth, while Khryselios worried about the likelihood that they might get sick. It was a good memory ...  
A slight movement from the inert garnet body drew her out of her nostalgic thoughts.  
“Zenith ... ?”  
She did not get an answer.   
"I shouldn't delude myself so much, I might regret it if I ever ..." she thought, not daring to even finish her thought.  
Arsenic breathed a long sigh, then returned to contemplating the outside.   
"In this kind of case, one can only rely on faith. Let us hope that the astral Lions have heard my prayer..."  
One of the wings of the Rathalos moved again, and was accompanied a few seconds later by its throat which emitted a faint rumble.  
“Zenith ... !” pronounced the muffled voice of the Rathian, which came closer to him.  
The closed eyes of the Dreadking opened painfully, like his mouth, which struggled to articulate a sentence.  
“Yeah … That’s my name indeed …”  
She threw herself around his neck, but was careful not to crush him.  
“How do you find time for irony at a time like this, you idiot!” she moaned, hoarse.  
Through her tears, she realized that the Rathalos was hiding more serious feelings behind this incongruous humor. She wiped the salty beads that streamed down her cheeks and released the Prince.  
“I ... He ... What happened when I lost consciousness?" he asked her, with his voice hoarse too, his features drawn.  
Arsenic dreaded the moment he would ask her that, and she did not expect him to want to know the truth so soon. Her gaze left her brother's face and froze on the ground. With empty eyes, she told the whole story at once.  
“Blast was terrified and couldn't move. So I ... I provoked this Zinogre ... Oxiderr, a duel. I thought I could get away with it, I had managed to poison him, and avoiding his lightning bolts was not easy but possible ... But what he had shown me during the first forty seconds was a simple demonstration. He had a lightning speed, as if he was teleporting. When he got tired of this entertainment, he caused a gigantic discharge that hit me and Blast. The armor was almost charred, but it saved us ... You had been sleeping for an entire day," she finished after a blank, raising her amethyst iris.

She had a shiver when she saw him nodding his head in an absent-minded way.  
“What are you thinking about?” she asked gently.  
”I'm thinking about the fact that we all almost got killed” Arsenic.  
He stood up, and took a few steps, stiff and clumsy. There was a cold and grave silence.  
“I have failed to protect you ... What kind of prince am I, if I am not even able to protect my own brothers and sisters ...?”  
“A valiant prince, who has the merit of recognizing his duty, and of fighting for his nation,” answered the Dreadqueen Rathian. “A prince who hardly puts his personal comfort before the survival of his people. Everyone fails and must feed on his mistakes so that they never happen again.”  
“We were too weak ... And above all, naive ...!" he murmured, looking at his bandaged wounds, his gaze lowering, as dispossessed of life.  
“We underestimated the danger that has been tormenting us for ten years, it's a fact. But a war is a war. There will always be stronger than us, Zenith. And ... This "Oxiderr" who outraged you, don't you want revenge?”  
The roles were reversed. He was the one who started to doubt, while she was trying to drag him into her determination.  
It was his turn to raise his eyes, blazing with anger, which met the now determined eyes of his sister, once so discreet and calm.  
“Of course I want.”   
He stood up completely, regaining his normal, fierce and proud attitude.  
“This dog is going to pay for what he and his people did to my brothers and sisters.”  
Arsenic decided to share his thoughts with him.  
“About this …”  
The King-Enfer seemed surprised, and tilted his head slightly to the side.  
“Yes?”  
“ I ... I don't think the Rakurians were the cause of Tourmaline's death.” Arsenic confessed.


End file.
